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NEW SERIES, No. 56.
MEMBERS OP THE SOCIETY 0? FRIENDS
Jn %xted Britain anb Jvslanfr,
FOR THE YEAR 1897.
Sold by Headley Bros., 14, Bishopsgate "Without ;
Mary Sessions, 30, Coney Street, York ;
J. and S. Gough, Temperance Hotel, Dublin ;
and by the editor,
William Robinson, St. Ouens, Weston-super-Mare.
ONDON, AND ASHFORD, KENT.
»<^ < 4 «
Again the fast waning year has brought the
time for counting our death roll, and for placing
^ on record in our pages some of the lessons of
instruction which the experience of departed
Friends affords. There have been occasions
during the past twenty years, when, as editor
. looking towards the preparation of a new volume,
I have somewhat anxiously wondered what
material would be forthcoming of which to make
a useful Annual Monitor. But this has never
failed me ; and it is encouraging thus to find,
year by year, that among those who have passed
away there have been so many whose lives were
brightened and strengthened by Christian faith,
and in whose experience and example there is so
much encouragement and incentive to seek to
follow them as they followed Christ, as well as
an abundant testimony that the faith in which
they have lived has brought to them the bright-
ness of assured confidence as the last hour drew
I am glad to be able, by the memoir of
F. Anton Fincke, again to bring the little com-
pany of our fellow professors in Germany to the
minds of Friends. They continue to claim our
To all who have kindly furnished me with
memorials of deceased Friends my best thanks
are due, and are now gratefully tendered. But
for their help it would not have been possible for
me to prepare this little volume.
Twelfth Month, 1897.
Elizabeth P. Davis &
Francis M. Davis.
Ann K. Lury.
Sarah C. Muggeridge.
Sophia E. Sams.
Francis J. Thompson.
Isaac G. Wallis.
Marian J. Wedmore.
These memoirs are published on the sole responsi-
bility of the writers, their friends, and the Editor.
tH t— 1 (M rH TfH OO tH
rH (M CO (M
Age. Time of Decease.
James Airy, 83 5 11 mo. 1896.
Sarah J. Aitken, 32 29 7mo. 1897.
Sunderland. Wife of James Aitken.
Henry Albright, 82 25 6mo. 1897.
Joseph S. Allen, 77 28 2mo. 1897.
Sarah A. Allport, 71 28 2mo. 1897.
Beading. A Minister. Wife of William
Mary Ann Altham, 76 23 12mo. 1896.
Penrith. An Elder. Wife of Thomas Altham.
Martha Arkinstall, 62 26 12mo. 1896.
George F. Armitage, 33 3 4mo. 1897.
Anna L. Baker, 55 7 llmo. 1896.
Dublin. Widow of Jonathan W. Baker.
Mabel B. Baker, 26 9 7mo. 1897.
Hampstead. Wife of Philip B. Baker.
Margaret H. Baker, 43 12 12mo. 1896.
William Barcroft, 56 9 llmo. 1896.
Grange, Co. Tyrone. An Elder.
William Barcroft, son of John Pirn and
Anna Barcroft, was born at Stangmore, near
Dungannon, in the year 1839. He was educated
at Newtown School, Waterf ord, under the care of
Kichard Allen and Frederick Taylor, and married
in 1886 Sarah, daughter of Joseph and Mary
It was in his native place that his life of
quiet, unobtrusive usefulness was passed. It
was one of which it is not easy to write. His
virtues were of a nature which never sought
public distinction or even recognition. " Let not
thy left hand know what thy ; right hand doeth "
was a principle he so fully carried out that few
knew how numerous and extensive were his acts
WILLIAM BARCROFT. 3
of sympathy and benevolence. He cared for
the temporal and spiritual well-being of those
around him, and was greatly beloved by his
poorer neighbours, who came confident of finding
in him an ever-ready friend, whether they needed
advice or more substantial help, and knowing
they could count beforehand on his kind con-
sideration and attention. He felt very deeply
his responsibility for those amongst whom he
lived, and for those with whom he came in daily
contact in the ordinary avocations of life. His
sympathies were very wide, and he always
recognised and drew out what was good and
true in others. Perfectly sincere himself, he
expected others to be the same, and was rarely
disappointed. Indeed this guileless transparency
of character was one of his marked characteristics.
Of his own spiritual life he seldom spoke,
though his testimony to Gospel truth was ever
ready, simple, manly, and earnest ; and his
friends could not fail to notice, as the years went
by, the deepening and ripening of his Christian
character. Always of a kindly, generous dis-
position, and throwing the weight of his influence
on the side of right, yet it was not till after years
of conflict and doubt, and a definite religious
experience, that he became the humble follower
4 ANNUAL MONITOR.
of the Lord Jesus Christ. Then, taking all the
accidents of birth and surroundings as talents
given him by the Master, and as one who should
render an account, he prayerfully considered the
Very especially was this the case in the
matter of giving employment. He did not
always choose the best and most faithful workers
he could get, but those who for some reason or
other he felt he could most effectually help in
this way. Naturally his patience was often
sorely tried, yet he rarely dismissed a servant,
unless he was convinced it was for the servant's
Such a life could not fail to have a deep and
lasting influence, and many have gratefully told
how his wise sympathy was the means of keeping
them in the narrow path when their feet had
almost slipped. No one would shrink more than
he from praise, and this is not intended as such,
but to show the grace of God in him.
Always young in mind he had a great
influence over the young, young men especially ;
and this was due largely to the fact that though
not of the world he was thoroughly in it.
Being a diligent reader, there was scarcely a
subject on which he was not more or less
informed. He thus met each on his own ground,
and entered keenly into his interests, whatever
they might be. Whether making toys for a group
of children, or working out the calculations for
his telescope with those older, no secular employ-
ment was ever beneath his notice, and thus he
filled a niche too often left unoccupied by others
of large religious experience.
Thoroughly characteristic was the place
which he gave to family worship, and many have
borne testimony that the times when the house-
hold met for " Reading " were often opportunities
of deep conviction, enlightenment, and blessing.
Those who have heard him pray on these
occasions — he invariably felt led to do so — have
often remarked on the depth and reality of his
prayers, as of one who realized the nearness and
omnipotence of Him to Whom he spoke.
He was a thorough man ! But a man who
walked with God.
His recreations were numerous ; his telescope,
workshop, garden, and orchard each claimed his
attention in turn, and proved a source of interest
and amusement to those around him.
He was warmly attached to the Society of
Friends, whose principles and interests he sought
in every way to promote. He did not hold their
views in a loose or traditional manner ; but, after
careful and prayerful study of the Scriptures and
also Early Church History (of the latter he had
almost an exhaustive knowledge), he had come
to accept those principles as identical with the
mind of Christ for His people ; and hence his
uncompromising and enthusiastic attitude towards
them for himself, though at the same time
having the warmest sympathy with all of every
creed who loved the Lord Jesus Christ in sin-
cerity. Many of his dearest and most valued
friends belonged to other religious bodies.
The cause of Foreign Missions, especially
those connected with Friends, have in him lost a
firm supporter. Enjoying the blessedness of
knowing that he was redeemed by the precious
blood of Christ, he felt the responsibility and
privilege of sharing this blessedness with those
who are without God and without hope in the
He held strong views on the subject of
Temperance, and sought by precept and practice
to influence others to become total abstainers,
taking a great interest in the Irish Temperance
League and similar organizations.
On the 10th of Eleventh month, 1896, he
quietly passed into the presence of the Master
whom it had been his delight to serve. His last
illness was short, but for part of the time was most
suffering, and especially trying to one of his active,
independent spirit, yet borne with such gentle
patience that even the nurse in attendance said
it was beyond what she had ever seen. Of
himself he would have said that he was an
unprofitable servant. His only confidence was
in Him " who of God is made unto us wisdom
and righteousness and sanctification and redemp-
Unto Him that loved us and washed us
from our sins in His own blood, and hath made
us kings and priests to God, to Him be glory and
dominion for ever and ever. Amen.
Jonathan Barcroft, 54 13 5mo. 1897.
Grange, Co. Tyrone.
Dan Harden, 67 17 lOmo. 1896.
Shepley, near Huddersfield.
Herbert K. Barratt, 31 25 9mo. 1897.
Henry Barritt, 61 17 8mo. 1897.
Samuel Barritt, 73 28 5mo. 1897.
William Batkin, 73 25 12mo. 1896.
Margaret Beale, 80 7 3mo. 1897
Blackrock, Dublin. A Minister.
The beloved Friend whose name is recorded
above, entered into her eternal rest on the 7th of
Third month, 1897, on a First-day, a day which
she always enjoyed ; and it is with the desire that
what is written may tend to the glory of God
and to the help and encouragement of His
children's faith and desires after a holy life, that
this short memorial has been prepared. For truly
she found her sweetest joys in seeking to please
and follow Christ, who in the tenderness of His
love was ever her strength in weakness, her
comforter in sorrow, and her upholder in times of
trial. Her dear nephews and nieces were never
forgotten by her at the throne of grace ; many of
them scattered far apart in distant homes could
not be influenced personally by her ; yet there is
the happy assurance that her letters to them and
prayers for them have not been in vain.
Although she was granted a lengthened life,
yet the call home when it came, was not looked
for by those in daily intercourse with her. She
was so bright and cheerful, and had continued
her accustomed household duties to the last week
of her life, when after only a few days of
suffering and weakness her sweet spirit was
released. She had been subject to attacks of
bronchitis, but in the end it was under an attack
of congestion of the lungs that her strength gave
way. She was clear to the end ; there was not a
murmur nor a desire that anything should be
otherwise than it was. She had sought and
found her Saviour in early years, and having
grown in faith and love to Him through the
diligent reading and study of the Holy Scriptures,
her soul had long been resting in His redeeming
Being the eldest of a large family she was
ever looked up to by her brothers and sisters, and
was as a second mother to the younger ones ; and
all the household felt the influence of her care
and example ; and to the dear parents she was a
strength and stay, always ready to comfort and
It was her lot to be often living away from
her home. At these times she gave herself up
fully to those with whom she resided, in self-
forgetful devotedness to them ; and being always
happiest whilst caring for others, she would enter
into their pursuits, their joys and sorrows, as
though they were her own. In later years she
was asked to become the companion of a valued
aged Friend, R. P. Fox of Kendal — formerly of
Falmouth, with whom she lived ten years, and
they became as sisters to each other. At Kendal
M. Beale's spiritual life was greatly helped by
members of that Meeting, to some of whom she
became deeply attached. Isaac Brown's ministry
and her intercourse with him and his dear wife
she much enjoyed and valued. Her friendship
with Hannah Wilson, whose conversation always
tended to spiritual subjects, and that of her
daughters, were very dear to her ; and there was
a sympathy and communion amongst Christians-
of different denominations in Kendal which
M. Beale enjoyed. It was the love of one Saviour
which drew the hearts of His followers together
in the bond of a uniting Christian love.
M. Beale entered with loving interest into-
the work of First-day Schools, Mothers' Meetings^
those for Young Women, Meetings for Christian
Communion, and others, both in Kendal and at
Bishop Auckland, where she spent a few years
after leaving Kendal. Many interesting notes of
these meetings and of her First-day School lessons
are found amongst her papers. It was early in
her Kendal life that she felt the call to testify
openly to her faith in her Saviour, which, in after
years, as she said to her sister, " filled her with
solemn awe," and brought her into very deep
thought and searching of heart ; but she was
enabled, after much prayer, to open her lips in
testimony to that dear Saviour's love. " Bought
by His precious Blood," she gave herself to Him,
and grew in power and expression, and was
recorded a minister by Kendal Monthly Meeting
in Twelfth month, 1875.
As time advanced Christ became more and
more the object and the subject of her ministry.
Our nothingness and His all sufficiency were her
"The Blood of Christ most precious,
The sinner's perfect plea."
It was her earnest prayer and endeavour to show
Him forth by her life and conversation as well
as by her ministry.
Margaret Beale was for sixteen years a
member of Dublin Monthly Meeting. Living at
Blackrock, she attended Monkstown Meeting.
Truly kind friends were given her here also. For
the last two years she was but seldom able to get
to meetings ; never through the last two winters.
There was a longing in her heart for more Christian
communion, more converse one with another on
spiritual things. One day last autumn she had
been dwelling on this subject, and knowing how
fully the young Friends of Monkstown Meeting
were engaged in Christian work of various kinds,
she said, 11 How glad I should be if one or other
of these young people could spare time to come
and see me, and that we might have some free
pleasant converse together." Some little time
after, this desire of her heart was unexpectedly
granted by one or two young Friends calling upon
her, when such conversation, without any effort,
was freely entered into, and she was refreshed
and grateful for their visits.
As the lengthening days of the early spring
spoke of the near approach of that much loved
season, she showed evident signs of weakening
bodily powers ; yet it did not awaken a thought
in those about her that the time of separation was
so near ; but on the 1st of Third month, she
appeared to have caught some cold, and kept by
the fire, yet wrote a letter to a dear cousin in
England. The next day she was more poorly,
yet up and down stairs as usual. That evening
remedies were applied, as pain in the chest had
increased, though she had not spoken of it in the
earlier part of the day. Very early the next
morning the doctor was called in. He did all
that could be done, but from the first he did not
think there was hope of recovery. She knew it
well herself and said to him, " Doctor, what should
we do in a time such as this, if we did not know
on whom to lean ? " He laid his hand on hers,
saying — " The same yesterday, to-day, and for
ever." She gave up most calmly her long
cherished hope of seeing an orphan niece, whom
she had cared for in childhood, and who had only
a few days before landed in England, from a four
years' residence in Sydney and Fiji, obliged to
return home on account of loss of health in the
latter place where she was engaged as matron to
the Colonial Hospital.
On the fifth she was too weak to speak
except in a low murmuring tone in prayer and
converse with the Lord, and of Him ; and through
the night the words "Justified, justified" were
heard, and the name of "Christ" — "He did it
all," and many more such expressions, showing
how her mind was stayed. On the sixth all was
silent except the low breathing. Those who
stood around tho loved one's bed that night and
morning can never forget the calm countenance
and the precious sense of the Saviour's presence
graciously granted to the last. At ten o'clock in
the morning she was with the Lord, and the
watchers were alone — yet not alone. They could
only give thanks for the preciousness, the peace
of those few days, and the goodness of the Lord
to the departed one, and to those whom she left
Many were the testimonies to her Christian
character received from both her English and
Irish friends. One dear friend writes : — " Thanks
for the card of my precious friend's Home-going.
The first thought was that I knew of no one to
whom it would be a greater joy to see Jesus. She
was very dear to me." And another : — " The
fragrance of her loving spirit will abide with
thee ; I have great faith in the communion of
saints on earth with saints in Heaven." And
again another: — "She has found the rest and
blessedness and freedom from care which, even
with her calm dependence upon God, must be a
blessed change for her."
The expression of more than one sympathiz-
ing friend was that " she had left a fragrance
behind her." Whence did this fragrance arise ?
— surely not from the natural heart. It was from
the love of Christ abiding in her, and from her
daily walk of abiding in Him.
It seems fitting to conclude this little memoir
with two stanzas from a hymn which M. Beale
learned only three weeks before her last illness,
and repeated to her sister on one of their last
Sabbath evenings together : —
Jesus, Friend unfailing,
How dear Thou art to me !
Are cares or fears assailing ?
I find my rest in Thee.
Why should my feet grow weary
Of this my pilgrim way ?
Rough though the path, and dreary,
It ends in perfect day.
Naught, naught I count as pleasure,
Compared, O Christ, with Thee !
Thy sorrow without measure
Earned peace and joy for me.
1 love to own, Lord Jesus,
Thy claims o'er me divine.
Bought with Thy blood most precious,
Whose can I be but Thine ?
Elias H. Bell, 71 31 12mo. 1896.
Knock, Belfast. An Elder.
Henry J. Bennett, 78 24 5mo. 1897.
Benjamin Bishop, 85 10 12mo. 1896.
Bramley, near Leeds.
George Bogg, 78 26 lOmo. 1896.
Great Ay ton.
Thomas Booth, 72 28 7mo. 1897.
Bramley, near Leeds.
John Bowden, 69 25 6mo. 1897.
Ann Braithwaite, 82 20 9mo. 1897.
Horsforth. Widow of Christopher Braithwaite.
MlLLICENT LEGAY BREWERTON,
Ipswich. 72 13 7mo. 1897.
Sarah A. Brereton, 77 17 lrao. 1897.
Foxrock, Dublin. Widow of Thomas Brereton
John Brick, 71 19 6mo. 1897.
Edwin Brown, 67 26 6mo. 1897.
Margaret Brown, 65 27 9mo. 1896.
Richard Brown, 93 15 7mo. 1897.
Earith. An Elder.
Eric W. Brunskill, 4 3 lOmo. 1896.
Darlington. Son of Walter and Annie
Mary Ann Bulla, 65 31 5mo. 1897.
Belfast. An Elder. Wife of Henry Bulla.
Martha Burdett, 81 11 3mo. 1897.
Denby, near Highflatts. An Elder. Widow of
Cornelius Burtt, 63 6 lmo. 1896.
Charlton Burtt. 27 22 4mo. 1896.
Toowoomba. Son of Cornelius Burtt.
Keturah C. Butcher, 65 16 12mo. 1896.
Elizabeth Cail, 88 5 5mo. 1896.
Great Ay ton. Widow of John Cail.
Joseph Carson, 74 21 lOmo. 1896.
Elizabeth Catlin, 83 28 llmo. 1896..
Robert Chester, 82 30 llmo. 1896.
Shipton. An Elder.
Rachel Child, 79 10 3mo. 1897.
Leeds. Widow of Joseph Child.
William C. Chippendale, 18 21 8mo. 1897.
Wyresdale. Son of Joseph and Margaret
Basil R. Clark, 8 3 lmo. 1897.
Croydon. Son of Charles and Ada Clark.
Richard Clark, . 77 9 12mo. 1896.
Middlesborough. An Elder.
John C. Constable, 76 12 5mo. 1897.
John B. Cooke, 77 17 12mo. 1896.
Annie Cornforth, 47 19 8mo. 1897.
Elizabeth Cruickshank, 77 8 lmo. 1897.
Birkenhead. Wife of Alexander Cruickshank.
Jane Curtis. 88 21 9mo. 1897.
Jessie Cuthbert, 45 7 3mo. 1897.
Crosshill, Glasgow. Wife of George Cuthbert.
Hannah N. Dalston, 53 17 6mo. 1897.
Middleshorough. Wife of I. P. Dalston.
Thomas T. Dann, 10 17 6mo. 1897.
Brighton. Son of Arthur and Mary H. Dann.
Eliza Darbyshire, 81 20 9mo. 1897.
Enderby, near Leicester. Widow of Charles
Elizabeth Davies, 74 9 6mo. 1897.
Settle. Wife of John Davies.
Elizabeth P. Davis, 70 2 lrao. 1897.
Killabeg , Enniscorthy . An Elder. Widow of
Francis H. Davis, 40 29 12mo. 1896.
Killabeg. Son of Elizabeth P. Davis.
The circumstances attending the removal
of these two dear Friends were of a peculiarly
touching character, serving to draw out, on behalf
of their bereaved family, the best sympathies,
not only of their own immediate circle of
relatives and friends throughout Ireland, but of
the public at large in the neighbourhood of their
own home at Killabeg House, near Enniscorthy.
" The news of the death of Mr. Frank Davis,"
writes the Editor of the local Koman Catholic
paper, " was received in Enniscorthy with feelings
ELIZABETH P. AND FRANCIS H. DAVIS. 19
of most genuine and profound sorrow, . . . .
and the expressions of regret which were to be
heard on the lips of the people of the town bore
testimony to the esteem and affection with which
he was regarded."
Elizabeth Pirn Davis was for many years
one of our most valued Elders, while her son
held office for some time as an Overseer. Within
a fortnight of their death both seemed apparently
in usual health, and on the 6th of Twelfth month,
1896, E. P. Davis was herself in attendance at
the Meeting for Ministry and Oversight of her
own (Co. Wexford) Monthly Meeting, at which,
with her wonted kindly thought for others, she
pressed a proposition for the occasional despatch
of " Home Church Letters " from the Monthly
Meeting to our missionaries at the various
working centres of the Friends' Foreign Mission
Always on the watch for the enjoyment and
comfort of those around her, her influence for
good was of a far-reaching character, extending
not only to those who were dependent upon her,
but to the members of the Protestant and Roman
Catholic communities by whom her home was
surrounded : and in view of the well-known
energy and true spirit of Christian love, which
carried her forth on many an errand of unspoken
but none the less effectual and practical ministry,
the words may be aptly applied to her —
" Beautiful hands are those that do
Work that is earnest, and kind and true,
Moment by moment,
The whole day through."
In allusion to her death, the paper already
quoted thus speaks : —
" Mrs. Davis has left a record of charity and
benevolence, and all those virtues which belong
to the sphere of a true woman, behind her.
Much of her time was devoted to the amelioration
of the lot of the poor. Amongst those in her
vicinity whom it pleased God to bless with little
of the world's goods, her name was a household
word. Her visits amongst the poor and suffering
were ever productive of consolation and relief.
In the other sphere in which she moved, her
amiable and kindly disposition made her beloved
Both mother and son were taken ill at
nearly the same time, and of a similar complaint
(pneumonia), the former at home, and the latter
while in temporary residence at the Abbotsford
Hotel, Dublin, whither he had but recently gone
to be in close proximity to the business of the
city firm with which his name was connected.
ELIZABETH P. AND FRANCIS H. DAVIS. 21
The best medical skill was at once obtained,
one of his two sisters also going immediately to
him, while the other remained at the sick bed of
the home sufferer.
During the progress of the disease, neither
patient could be told how ill the other was.
Though so wrapped up in each other, as they
had ever been, since the previous delicacy of
Francis Henry's health had made him the
constant object of solicitude to his mother, yet
it was remarked that neither of them used to
make enquiry for the other. It almost seemed
as if they were given to feel that very soon, in
either case, " the silver cord " would be " loosed,"
and " the golden bowl broken," and that in the
full enjoyment of the promises of God, they
would both ere long be " for ever with the
But true and widespread was the sorrow felt
and expressed on behalf of the two bereaved
sisters, one of whom, after closing the eyes of
the beloved brother in Dublin, only returned
home just in time to join her sister in seeing the
last of their precious mother. Truly God's ways
are not our ways, nor His thoughts, our thoughts ;
and yet it is precisely at such times as these,
when the bright pictures of earth are being
dimmed before our eyes, that we realize more
fully how glorious and beautiful are the consola-
tions of the everlasting Gospel, and how sweet
and sustaining the assurance of our blessed Lord,
that He will " receive unto " Himself all those
who " sleep " in Him. Thus of our dear friends
it has been written : —
" They sweetly sleep in Jesus : precious comfort !
Encircled in His loving, strong embrace.
Evermore blest, they now behold His glory ;
In company they gaze upon His face.
No farewell partings marred the separation ;
A few short days, and both had met again
In heaven, where no sorrow ever enters,
And where God's people never suffer pain.
O wondrous joy ! O glorious re-union !
Can we not picture with what glad surprise
They clasped each other's hands in yonder City,
And looked upon the King, with raptured eyes.
Swift, sudden change !— One moment here in
suff 'ring ;
The next an upward soar to realms of light.
Translated and transformed to God's own image,
And robed in garments, spotless, pure, and white.
Not dead, but living now, the friends you mourn
Reigning above with Him who died to save.
The love which brought the Saviour down from
Hath made them both victorious o'er the grave.
ELIZABETH P. AND FRANCIS H. DAVIS.
And now, eternally, supremely happy,
They live for ever in the Master's smile.
Be comforted : not long the Lord will tarry ;
You'll meet again : 'tis but ' a little while.'
Most tender Saviour, Thou alone canst comfort
Or raise the heads with grief and sorrow bowed ;
Oh ! wilt Thou now reveal in all its radiance
The silver lining of this heavy cloud ?
Draw near Thyself, and speak sweet words of
Give Thine own peace to every sorrowing heart.
Lord, grant that all may meet again in heaven,
With Thee to dwell, and nevermore to part."
William Davis, 72 14 8mo. 1897.
Ernest P. Dawes, 23 26 lOmo. 1896.
St. Johns Wood, London. Son of Benjamin
and the late Caroline Dawes.
Susanna D. Doeg, 69 24 12mo. 1896.
Scotby, near Carlisle. An Elder. Widow of
Jane Dommett, 65 4 3mo. 1897.
Anna Doubleday, 78 16 5mo. 1897.
Annie Douthwaite, 73 2 6mo. 1897.
Achworth. Widow of William M. Douthwaite
Oulielma M. Drewett, 86 19 8mo. 1897.
Luton. Widow of William Drewett.
Mary Ann Eaton, 68 19 8mo. 1897.
Sheffield. Wife of Henry Eaton.
Johnston Elliott, 11 16 5mo. 1897.
Besshrooh. Son of Joseph and Sarah Elliott.
Lydia D. Evens, 45 22 llmo. 1896.
Leytonstone. Wife of Frederick G. Evens.
Mary P. Everett, 85 16 12mo. 1896.
Ipswich. Widow of Thomas Everett.
Mary J. Fairbanks, 55 2 lOmo. 1896.
Pechham. Wife of William Fairbanks.
Joseph Faren, 76 12 3mo. 1897.
Martha Farnish, 73 22 9mo. 1897.
Bradford. Wife of Joseph Farnish.
James Fellows, 81 23 4mo. 1897.
Olivia Fengard, 25 23 7mo. 1897.
Maria Ferris, 75 23 2mo. 1897.
Franz Anton Fincke 68 4 2mo. 1897.
For many years F. A. Fincke has been
known by some of the young Friends who have
been to Germany to study the language, and not
a few have been indebted to him for assistance
in its acquisition. He was very humble-minded
FRANZ ANTON FINCKE.
and retiring in disposition, but was very thorough
in whatever he undertook, and would steadily
plod on until his end was attained.
His parents were Eoman Catholics, living in
a village near Iserlohn in Westphalia. They
both died when he, their only child, was about
six years of age. Some near relative was
appointed as his guardian, and sent him to a
Eoman Catholic school, and subsequently to a
seminary, to be trained as a teacher. But feeling
uneasy about some of the Roman Catholic tenets,
he left that institution and became a farm
labourer : his strength, however, was not equal
to this work and he relinquished it.
Having now inherited a little property, he
spent it in attending lectures at a university. He
met with a few books published by Friends in
England, and was struck with their views about
wars and fighting. On learning that there was a
little company of Friends at Minden he went
there, and conversed with some of them on these
Shortly after this, on being served with a
summons to be enrolled in the army, he told the
military authorities that his conscience forbade
him to take up arms and become a soldier ; in
consequence of which he was tried by court-
martial, and sentenced to be imprisoned for dis-
obeying the laws of the country.
This was in the year 1855, and his case was
brought under the notice of the Continental
Committee of the Society of Friends in England,
by the minutes of which it appears that his
imprisonment was to last for about three and a
half years, the first portion at Minden and the
remainder at Wesel on the Rhine.
In the early part of the present century
Christian and Ernst Peitsmeyer, two brothers
professing with Friends at Minden and Pyrmont,
were punished for refusing to give military
service, by being placed bare-footed in a room
the floor of which was composed of planks set
edgewise and slanting and at some little distance
apart. This species of torture was subsequently
abolished, but not until after F. Anton Fincke
had been subjected to it, which he found induced
great bodily suffering, as he could neither stand,
sit, nor lie down without pain. In his slow and
quiet way of describing this to a Friend, he said,
— " And I will tell thee how I managed to get
some relief. The prison allowance of bread was
more than I required to live on " (he was remark-
ably abstemious) "and so I made of the rest pads
for the feet, and getting up into a corner, found
myself in a lessened state of torture."
FRANZ ANTON FINCKE. 27
Samuel Gurney, a member of the Continental
Committee, wrote on his behalf to the King of
Prussia, and received a reply that the King had
the subject under his immediate notice. About
a month later, intimation was received that a
relaxation in the severity of the treatment at
Wesel had taken place, and that the duration of
his imprisonment had been shortened.
About a year after this, John Yeardley and
two of the German Friends visited him in the
prison, when they heard a favourable report of
his conduct under his trials, which he bore in a
patient, Christian spirit.
Subsequently to this, Eliza P. Gurney, with
Robert and Christine Alsop, when visiting on
religious service amongst the Friends at Minden,
Pyrmont, and Obernkirchen, concluded to go to
Berlin, where they had an interview with the
Eoyal Family; in the course of which they
entreated the King to redress F. Anton's Fincke's
grievance. Thereupon the King asked one of his
adjutants for the "Rapport" from the prison
authorities at Wesel, with regard to the prisoner's
behaviour ; and these authorities having given
him a very good character, the King said, " The
best way to release the man will be to expel him
from the Military Union." This was accordingly
done and he was set at liberty.
Friends having become interested in his case,
he came over to England and became a
student in the Flounders' Institute, where he
availed himself to the full of his opportunities
for study. His somewhat shy nature kept him
perhaps more shut up within himself than was
the case with others, and his firmness in follow-
ing his convictions, as evidenced during his prison
experience, made it no easy matter to turn him
from his own way.
A fellow student with him at the Flounders'
Institute remarks that whilst he was always
cheerful, he did not seem very sociable, probably
in part from his ignorance of English ; but also
from the state of his health, which had been
injured by the harsh treatment he experienced
whilst in prison. It was very noticeable that he
seldom referred to his personal history except
briefly in reply to definite questions ; and he
never assumed any credit to himself, or put on
the air of a martyr. It fact his references to his
prison experiences were sometimes made with a
touch of humour that pleasantly relieved the
painfulness of the subject.
F. A. Fincke was a diligent student, and
though not of brilliant ability, occasionally gave
evidence that he was a man, even at that time, of
FRANZ ANTON FINCKE.
no mean attainments. He felt specially attracted
to the study of mathematics and languages,
eventually making considerable progress in Latin r
Spanish, French and English. Botany and
chemistry also had a share of his attention, more
especially the former. During the last few years-
of his life he gave considerable thought to short-
hand, of which he was preparing a system of his-
After studying at the Flounders' he became
tutor in a private family in England, and then
was engaged as teacher of a junior class at New-
town School, Waterford. Whilst there he spoke-
rather more freely about his own history, the
most painful remembrance being that he had been
entirely disowned by all his relations and friends,,
through having associated himself with the
Quakers. They would pass him in the streets
without noticing him ; and every familiar door
was closed against him.
Eventually he returned to Minden, where for
some years he taught the children of Friends and
others, giving also classical lessons to young men
preparing for university or other examinations in
general knowledge. Success in passing these
examinations reduced for these young men the
period of compulsory military service from three
years to one.
F. Anton Fincke was not given to much
expression as to his religious sentiments ; and he
was moreover somewhat slow of speech ; but he
was closely attached to the views held by Friends,
and a very regular attender of their meetings for
worship. Occasionally he was able to come to
London and attend the Yearly Meeting. These
opportunities he much valued, and he was most
grateful for any little attention shown to him.
In a letter written in 1896, he remarked, "Thy
letter revived my desire to undertake some work
in the Lord's vineyard. Though I have often
been inclined to believe that it is not of much
use to try spreading the principles of Friends in
Germany, yet lately I have often been reminded
that it is our duty to follow the example of our
Lord. He often visits men by His Holy Spirit ;
though sometimes He may find a decided refusal,
He will mercifully repeat His visitations and
invitations. In the same manner we ought to try,
again and again, whether it may be possible
through our Lord's assistance to move some
people to come to true communion with Him,
and to eternal life. Therefore I feel pressed to
try once more whether it might not be possible
to spread the principles of Friends all over
Germany. Though it may be the case that we
FRANZ ANTON FINCKE.
do not perceive direct success, yet it may be, that
a little seed may grow gradually and bring forth
much fruit later on. I agree with the expression
I found in the ' Friend ' that the peculiar
doctrines of Friends are specially suitable to the
time in which we live, and are in closest sympathy
with the theological spirit of the age.
" At present there is a great movement in
Germany against the military system and warfare.
On the other hand Socialism is increasing, and a
great number of Socialists try to abolish all
religion. Therefore I think circumstances demand
a renewed trial and activity. Though perhaps the
military system and warfare may not be brought
to an end in a short time, yet if the people are
moved to listen to the inward teachings of our
Lord's Spirit, and are brought to true anward
Christian life, then all contrary things will perhaps
slowly but certainly and steadily decrease. I am
much obliged for thy sending me a little book on
the Atonement, and am very glad to see it."
For many years F. A. Fincke lived in the
house of Johann Peitsmeyer, in Lindenstrasse,
Minden, where the meetings of Friends are held.
His room presented somewhat the appearance of
a hermit's dwelling place, and was stored with
books in all directions.
In a recent letter he had remarked that he
had been too busy to be ill. But in the early part
of 1897 he caught a severe cold which resulted in
his death on the 4th of Second month, when he
quietly and trustfully breathed his last.
A Friend in writing about him remarked,
" He was very slow and reserved, but the more
known, the better liked."
John Fisher, 84 1 8mo. 1897.
Hannah P. Fowler, 87 13 5mo. 1897.
Sydney, New South Wales. An Elder.
Hannah Pole Fowler was for so many years
known and respected amongst the Friends living
in Sydney, that it seems fitting to place a record
concerning her in the " Annual Monitor."
Although not remarkable for gifts of
utterance, even in conversation, yet by her kind-
ness of heart and Christian cheerfulness, with a
hopefulness proof against all discouragement, she
proved herself, throughout many years, and often
under very trying circumstances, to be a true
u mother " over the little group of Friends in the
She was born in 1809, in the neighbourhood of
Bristol. She had been lame from childhood, and at
length underwent an operation, the diseased foot
HANNAH P. FOWLER.
being amputated by John C.Nield,a medical prac-
titioner from Lancashire, for whose professional
care she was always very grateful.
In 1833 her father, Francis Fowler, emigrated
to the United States, taking all his family except-
ing his daughter Hannah, who had established a
good business in Bristol, as a Friends' bonnet, cap
and shawl maker. A Friend who still remembers
her thus, speaks of her as being of a happy, sunny
disposition, greatly respected and liked.
In 1853, Dr. J. C. Nield with his wife and
family emigrated to New Zealand, accompanied
by H. P. Fowler, who for some years remained
with this family, to which she was warmly
attached, and in which she might be said to act as
This was during the troublous times of the
Maori war, with which they were at times brought
into close and unpleasant contact, and in conse-
quence of which she and her friends lost a large
portion of the money they possessed.
In 1862 they all went to Sydney, where Dr.
Nield practised in his profession, and Hannah P.
Fowler commenced business in a little shop in
Castlereagh Street, where for fully thirty years
she lived, always with the same cheerful, sunny
atmosphere attending her, by which so many,
especially of her younger friends, were attracted
and influenced. She had seen Sydney in its
earlier stages of growth, and many were the
changes she could describe. For some years she
carried on, in connection with her stationery
business, a registry for servants, in the prosecu-
tion of which her rooms were crowded by those
seeking places, and mistresses needing their
Hannah P. Fowler was a Friend by convic-
tion as well as by birth. She was nominally a
member of Bristol and Frenchay Monthly Meet-
ing up to the time when Sydney became an
acknowledged Monthly Meeting in connection with
London Yearly Meeting. Situated as her home
was, near the centre of the city, it became the
rendezvous of Friends, and was almost more used
by them, for a considerable time, than the
Meeting House itself. The week-night meetings,
held in her little sitting-room, often proved times
of spiritual blessing and refreshment ; and so
many were the plans of work formulated there,
in connection with the First-day Adult School^
Children's School, and other agencies, that her
house might almost have been called the " Power
House " of the Society in Sydney ; and no little
of that power seemed centred in herself, in the
HANNAH P. FOWLER. 35
loving personal interest she exhibited in every-
thing calculated to promote and build up the
cause of her Divine Master.
By age and by service she was fitted to be
an Elder of that Monthly Meeting ; and however
much she shrank at times from the responsi-
bilities which such an office involved, she never
failed to fulfil them in the way her conscience
dictated. But to the younger portion of the
meeting she was more than Elder, she was mother,
a "link which knit the generations each to
each." It was pleasing to note that her hopes
for the future of Sydney Meeting rose higher as
she drew near to the end of life.
Probably some of her happiest hours were
those she spent as hostess, whether prior to meet-
ings, when her guests were older Friends, or with
younger ones on First-days, between the time of
morning meeting and afternoon school. Her
helpfulness will never be forgotten, nor the
pleasure she evidently felt and never disguised,
in offering this free hospitality ; and to many,
both the helpfulness and pleasure will be likely
to serve as an inspiration for days to come. A
beam from the " Sun of her soul " evidently shone
bright through her loving spirit.
To her and to her guests alike, when the
time came that these gatherings had to be given
up, the blow was a heavy one. It came suddenly,
and to her friends seemed irreparable ; while for
her, it marked a period when warfare was over,
and armour had to be laid aside. Removed also
to a distance, so that friends could not con-
veniently drop in to see her as formerly, she,
though never ceasing to long for these privileges,
appreciated with thankfulness the kind thought-
fulness of those around her, and expressed with
smiling face her sense of deep gratitude for any
little kindness shown.
Though her bodily powers were failing, her
spirit was still willing, and she only waited for a
further summons from the Master whom she had
so long loved and served ; nor did she ever forget
from whose hand the mercies of her life had
always come, or fail to realize in her times of
need, a comforting sense of His own presence and
A younger member of the Meeting, in
writing about her, remarked : — " The last time I
went up to see her was with E. P. ; at first H. P.
Fowler did not recognize me, but afterwards knew
me as well as ever. We three had a little meet-
ing for worship, and I think this was the last one
she took part in ; we felt it to be a time of
HANNAH P. FOWLER.
communion with our beloved Master. Some
verses were read from the fourteenth chapter of
John (loudly so that our aged Friend might hear),
and prayer was offered, that she might feel the
nearness and comfort of her Saviour in the closing
days of her pilgrimage."
Her desire, oft repeated, was, that when He
came for whom she waited, she might be found
ready, watching ; and so it was. Her final illness
was not long continued — only for a few days.
Though at times seeming to be conscious, after
this attack she never rallied, but simply " fell
asleep" without a struggle.
From the same pen came the following
account of the funeral in the Friends' Burial
Ground at Kookwood, some miles from Sydney.
" The day was a glorious one, the Heavens one
vault of beautiful Australian blue, the air clear
and cool, the sun shining brightly, a fitting day,
it seemed to me, to give back to earth the body
of one whose loving, tender spirit had so long
served the beloved Master and His people.
" In the two carriages that followed were
several Friends, and at the cemetry others met us.
Daniel Clark and I followed next to the coffin, as
representing the older and younger of the Society.
The meeting at the grave was sad and soul-
stirring, and yet a joyful one, in that all seemed
to feel that it was but the passing through the
gates of death to her joyful resurrection.
" Several bore testimony to her worth and her
useful life, and to the good influence she had
exercised, very especially upon young men. A
clergyman of the Church of England who was
present spoke of a thirty-five years' friendship, and
what a good, true and noble friend she had been
to him and to others. One Friend spoke of the
joy given by the knowledge of her life being hid
with Christ in God ; that though, so far as this
world was concerned, they had parted for ever,
yet that in so far as they too were in Christ, they
could look forward with sure and certain hope to
that great day of the Lord when He would claim
His own, and when His servants would be united
"Though the spoken words seemed heartfelt
and so fitting, yet I believe that in the pauses of
silence and stillness there was heard even the
voice of the Lord Himself, speaking to the children
of His love. And so 'He giveth His beloved
A Friend who had visited nearly all the
Australasian colonies, and who had personally
witnessed the effects of this dear old Friend's
HANNAH P. FOWLER.
daily " life and conversation," writes thus : —
;t What strikes one as remarkable in the life of
the late Hannah P. Fowler, is how she, an invalid,
poor, comparatively uneducated, lame and deaf,
attained to a position of so much influence for
good, not only among Friends of her own Meet-
ing, but also among many others from distant
parts. Her cottage became a centre of influence,
and a meeting place for all classes of visitors,
both from home and abroad. Not a few of these,
after being in her presence and coming into touch
with her spiritual life, went away refreshed and
strengthened for the duties of life, or for service
for their Lord.
"The only solution that meets the case is
that she was one who lived in daily communion
with her Lord and Master, and thus ' out of
weakness was made strong,' with ' a heart at
leisure from itself — ever ready to soothe and
sympathise. How stimulating should even a
lowly life like hers be to us all, under whatever
disadvantages we may labour, to more faithful
witness-bearing for Christ, which will not only
enrich us with blessings, but make us also a
blessing to others."
Needs there the praise of the love-written record,
The name and the epitaph graved on the stone ?
The things we have lived for, let them be our
We ourselves but remembered by what we have
Ernest H. Fricke, 32 27 7mo. 1897.
Sophia Fry, 59 30 3mo. 1897.
Darlington. Wife of Sir Theodore Fry.
Dorothy A. Frizzell, 19mo23 3mo. 1897.
Llandrindod Wells. Daughter of Harry and
Eva M. Frizzell.
Jane Gill, 85 18 8mo. 1897.
Dewsbury. An Elder. Widow of Benjamin
The subject of this memoir was wont to
remark that the reading of biographies was often
discouraging, because the characters were repre-
sented as so faultless, the best traits being almost
exclusively dwelt upon, so that the reader was apt
to despair of reaching the standard thus held up.
It may, therefore, be well to say at the outset
that Jane Gill was no exception to the rule of
human frailty and fallibility. Of this she was
herself very conscious ; and, once persuaded that
any opinion she held, or any practice or habit to
which she had been accustomed was faulty, it
was at once abandoned.
She was the daughter of George and Mary
Thornton, of York. Her parents were not in
affluent circumstances ; but they, especially her
mother, made every effort to give their children
the very best education within their reach. That,
it is needless to say, fell considerably short, at
the beginning of the century, of what is attain-
able by the humbler classes in its closing decade.
Nevertheless, Jane Thornton and her two sisters
received such a training as enabled them, when
they reached young womanhood, to become school
Her mother received deep religious impres-
sions at the time of losing her only son in his
infancy. This great trouble was over-ruled for
her soul's good, and was the means of her con-
version. All her three daughters were brought
up in an atmosphere of deep religious feeling.
The effect of this upon Jane was very apparent.
Her convictions led her, at an early age, to a
definite experience of a change of heart, and she
joined the Methodist body. She became very
zealous in the performance of religious duties,
going regularly to "class," frequently taking
part there in testimony or prayer, and by extreme
diligence in private devotions, emulating the
example of the founder of Methodism in the
habit of early rising for this purpose, until her
health began to suffer through her austerity, and
she came to realize that she had neither the same
constitution nor the same work to do as John
Wesley. She was esteemed in the religious
circle among whom she now moved, both on
account of her zeal, and because of her good
voice for singing. Her acquaintance with the
Wesleyan hymn book was extensive, and the
words and tunes which at this time became
familiar to her remained fixed upon her memory.
She would frequently while away lonely hours
during the last few years of her life by singing
over some of these favourite hymns.
After the death of her mother, the other mem-
bers of the family being in situations away from
York, the care of the aged father devolved upon
Jane. This made it needful for her to obtain
some employment which would permit of spend-
ing most of her time at home. Teaching,
therefore, had to be abandoned. About this time
she became acquainted with the Society of
Friends, and was surprised to find that a religious
body existed, whose tenets corresponded so
exactly with the views which had been gradually
forming in her own mind. Tn connection with
these views she used to relate how she became
convinced of the consistency with the New
Testament of the principles and practices of the
Society of Friends in relation to the ministry, the
so-called "sacraments," and plainness of dress
and language. Of these things she often said
she was persuaded, -not by imitation of any one
else, but " in the same way that the early Friends
were led to see them." As she yielded to these
convictions she by degrees became as a stranger
among the Wesleyans. She could not, as
formerly, respond readily to the call of the class-
leader to take part in the meetings, as she began
to feel that the Divine Leader was the only one
whose mandate she must follow in such exercises.
It was now that she began more than ever to
discover the truth of the Lord's words — " Straight
is the gate and narrow is the way that leadeth
unto life." She became more and more singular
among her associates, until the climax seemed
reached in the matter of dress and language.
She finally abandoned the Methodist meetings
and began to attend those of Friends. These
changes were not made without a very severe
struggle ; indeed she at first had resisted her new
ideas, believing them to be suggestions of the
enemy. The change of dress and language was
an especially heavy cross to her, so much so that
she thought this thing at least she could not do.
She felt the burden so much that she asked the
Lord to take away the sense of this obligation
for a time, until she was better prepared for it.
Her request was granted, and for some time the
requirement to take this step left her. She always
thought this was a mistake on her part, and that
she suffered loss by it ; that what she ought to
have done was to pray for strength to be obedient.
But conviction was, at length, fully yielded to,
and she felt wonderfully helped over this trying
ordeal. It was especially difficult for her to ad-
dress her father with the singular pronoun ; but,
as she stedf astly pursued the path of duty, diffi-
culties vanished, and, in some cases, an actual
change for the better seemed to follow in the
respect with which she was regarded by those
whose resentment of this form of address she
About this time, the temperance reformation
became a prominent question, and many of the
people of York, and Jane Thornton among them,
were very active in promoting it. She signed
the pledge, and became a zealous member of the
first Temperance Society in the ancient city.
She not only abandoned the use of all intoxicating
liquor, but, with characteristic thoroughness, she
resolutely set her face against tobacco, and
persuaded her father to give up its use. In this,
as in many other of her actions, she met with
opposition. When her elder sister found that her
father had given up smoking at his daughter's
persuasion, she set it down to parsimony, and, by
way of practical rebuke to her sister, she bought
and presented to the old man a large packet of
tobacco, which, however, he never used. The
elder sister subsequently became as zealous as
Jane in her opposition to the use of narcotics.
It was not until some time after this that
she joined the Society of Friends. She became
intimately acquainted with the late Jemima
Spence, whose spiritual experience had been very
much like her own, and with whom she formed
a life-long friendship. This friend suggested to
her the desirability of joining the Society, and
she ultimately did so. On the death of her
father she took the situation of housekeeper at
the business house of Joseph Spence, in which
she remained until her removal to Dewsbury,
about the }^ear 1851, where she became companion
to an aged invalid. Her connection thus com-
menced with the Meeting and the town in which
she was destined to spend nearly half a century.
Within a year or two of coming to this new
situation she was united in marriage to Benjamin
Gill, of Batley Carr. He had been a widower for
some time, and had one little son. And now, as
wife and mother new duties claimed her care, to
the discharge of which she applied the same
conscientiousness which had ever marked her
actions. She never relaxed her interest in religion
nor in the special views which are held by the
Society of Friends. No domestic or business
engagements, except the most imperative, were
ever allowed to interfere with her attendance of
meetings. This and the daily Bible reading in
the family, and other religious duties always
entered into the arrangement of her life's routine.
She had neither the time nor the inclination to
mingle much in society. Attention to her
household and family, and the assistance she
rendered in her husband's business reduced leisure
to a minimum. But she often used to say that
she was never lonely when alone. The words of
a poem translated from the French which she
sometimes quoted aptly express her feeling in this
respect : —
" When they urge me to mirth, I think Oh, were
" How I meet the best company when I'm alone ! "
In every thing she observed severe simplicity
and on principle, as well as on account of limited
means, ever practised the most strict economy.
She had a horror of debt, and, in her personal
dealings would never incur it ; or, if that were
unavoidable, would never rest till she knew it
was discharged. This was for her a religious
duty. " Owe no man anything but to love one
another " was a text she frequently cited. " How
•can there be any real love," she would say, "when
persons owe others money which they make little
or no effort to pay ? " She thought that this
failing was a source of much injury to the cause
of Christianity. In her household furniture and
in her own and her children's attire she always
set order, cleanliness and decency before orna-
ment or display. It was her earnest concern
that eternal things should have the first place.
She was anxious that her children should
"possess a well-grounded hope in Christ," and
she made a point of dealing with them individu-
ally about this matter. She thus endeavoured,
towards both her own family and those around
her, to maintain " a conscience void of offence."
Jane Gill had a firm belief in the reality of
Divine guidance in every affair of life. In
emergency or dilemma she would turn instinc-
tively to the inward Monitor and feel after the
needed counsel ; and whether it were in answer-
ing the appeal of a beggar at the door or in any
other matter, she ever sought to follow the course
which she thought was shown to her to be the
right one. If this involved her in self-denial,
she did not shrink from it.
A poor woman had got into B. Gill's debt to a
considerable amount. She believed her to be a
worthy person, and felt much sympathy for her
and her large family ; she wished, therefore, to
cancel the debt. Her husband, however, de-
clined to allow this, as he did not feel the same
confidence in the woman's character, and he also
felt that the sum was larger than he could suit-
ably give as charity. Jane Gill, therefore, felt
that it was only by some personal sacrifice on her
own part that her purpose could be attained, and
for a period of seventeen weeks she ate dry
bread, saving her butter money to discharge the
Some five or six years before her decease
she had a serious illness, and her recovery seemed
extremely doubtful. But, while her friends had
scarcely any anticipation of her being restored,
she herself felt sure that her life would be spared.
She mentioned one day that she had felt parti-
cularly easy as she lay in bed, both in mind and
body, at which she wondered until she remem-
bered the words — " Thou wilt make all his bed
in his sickness." " So," she said, "I might well
be easy if the Lord made the bed." When the
issue of her illness seemed a little doubtful, while
feeling no fear of death, she yet had a desire to
remain here a little longer, and, remembering
how fifteen years were added to the life of King
Hezekiah when he was "sick unto death," she
felt a desire that she might be spared for seven
years. As she thus meditated the conviction
seemed borne in upon her that this length of
time would be granted her. So unhesitating was
her acceptance of this impression that when the
doctor paid his next visit to what he had thought
was probably her death-bed, she told him he need
not call again or send any more medicine, as the
Great Physician having taken her in hand, she
was going to get better. Her faith was rewarded
by a speedy recovery, and it was not till the end
came that she again had a really serious illness.
During the last few months of her life her
memory began to fail, and her sight and hearing
became very defective. Her patience, as these
infirmities grew upon her, was very marked.
When a relation one day expressed sympathy
with her in her increasing feebleness, she
exclaimed, " It will not be always so ! " And she
repeated the hymn : —
" There is a land of pure delight,
Where saints immortal reign,
Infinite day excludes the night,
And pleasures banish pain."
As the time of her departure drew near
patient peacefulness became more and more the
clothing of her spirit. Though she had, after
the marriage of her son, always preferred to keep
a house of her own, she began to feel towards
the end that she would like to give up house-
keeping, and arrangements were on foot for
carrying out this wish, when the summons came
to the " house not made with hands," and the
words of one of her favourite hymns were
fulfilled for her : —
" Above yon angel powers
In glorious joy to live \
Far from a world of grief and sin,
With God eternally shut in."
Francis Gillett, 69 7 llmo. 1896.
Arthur J. Gilliver, 26 20 3mo. 1897.
Hichard S. Gilmore, 21 20 9mo. 1897.
Belfast. Son of William J. and Mary E.
John Glaisyer, 60 14 2mo. 1897.
Malton. A Minister.
John Glaisyer was born at Brighton on the
6th of Ninth month, 1836. He was educated at
Benjamin Abbott's school at Hitchin. He settled
in business at Huddersfield, and in 1870 married
Mary Jane Ellis (widow of James Austin Ellis),
a union which proved a source of much happiness.
After nearly twenty years 7 residence in Hudders-
field, he removed to York, and fifteen years later
to Malton, where the last three years of his life
were spent. He was throughout an active man
of business, and his consistent Christian life
influenced many with whom he had but little
At one time he was much engaged in
municipal and other public duties, but latterly
he gave his available time and thought mainly to
the interests of the Society of Friends. He
early became an earnest worker in the Adult
School movement. He was a good teacher ; his
gift of clearly expressing his own broad and
deep convictions of religious truth was a great
help to those with whom he met. While still a
young man he was convinced of total abstinence
principles by an address of Samuel Bowly's, and
threw himself heartily into temperance work.
His ministry in meetings for worship, com-
menced only in later life, was always acceptable
to Friends, who could often have wished his
communications to be longer and more frequent.
In this, as in other matters, humility was
characteristically blended with his quiet but firm
faith. He was acknowledged a minister six
months before his death.
The following is an extract from the
memorial minute read at Pickering and Hull
Monthly Meeting, held at Scarborough, 21st of
Fourth month, 1897 :—
" Wise in counsel and rich in sympathy,
he endeared himself to those amongst whom he
moved. His life seemed especially to illustrate
the ministry of "helps" referred to by the
Apostle in his enumeration of spiritual gifts.
His service for his Lord grew and deepened
with its exercise. We thankfully record the
great value of our dear friend's life amongst us."
There was indeed good evidence that though
the last summons came very suddenly it found
John Glaisyer watching. He died on the 14th
of Second month, 1897.
Margaret Goodall, 68 23 5mo. 1897.
Leeds. Widow of Matthew Goodall.
J. B. Clibborn Goodbody, 44 17 5mo. 1897.
Clara, King's Co. A Minister.
Henry Goouch, 83 17 7mo. 1897.
Ann Goundry, 81 10 lOmo. 1896.
Lucinda Graham, 70 30 llmo. 1896.
Lisburn. Widow of John Graham.
Stephen Gravely, 82 6 9mo. 1897.
Ackworth. An Elder.
Though Stephen Gravely was not widely
known, yet the ministry of a quiet Christian life
was so well illustrated by him that we hardly
like his name to be passed over without a few
words, which may encourage others who do not
feel called to conspicuous service for the Master
whom they love.
Stephen Gravely was born and spent the
larger part of his long life in the south of
England, and mostly in Meetings where there
was not much vocal ministry ; and thus his
own inclinations were rather in the direction of
silence. But in 1894 he removed to Ackworth,
where the remaining years of his life were spent.
Here he soon became strongly attracted by the
life of the School, and took a very warm interest
in everything which concerned the welfare of the
children and teachers. In the Meeting, so differ-
ently constituted from those to which he had been
accustomed, his loving spirit was earnestly
concerned to encourage everything which he felt
to be for the general good, though feeling
prevented by age from entering actively into new
interests. He would often say, " If I cannot help
you, I won't hinder ! " And yet his brief utter-
ances in the ministry, not frequent but delivered
with so much seriousness and feeling, his loving
words of encouragement to those whom he
believed to be exercising a true gift in the
ministry, and his kindly Christian courtesy, were
a help and a lesson to others, far beyond what he
supposed. Even the village people whom he met
in his walks were struck by his cheerful face, for
as one of them remarked, " He always looked so
happy." And in this way we believe he exercised
a true ministry for his Master.
Though his loss of strength had been noticed,
the end came very unexpectedly to most of his
friends, who hardly knew he was ill before they
heard he had gently passed to his rest.
He was fond of poetry, and had been much
struck by Tennyson's " Crossing the Bar," which
he had quoted with interest not long before his
death ; and in his case the words were very
appropriate to the close —
" Twilight and evening bell,
And after that the dark.
And may there be no sadness of farewell,
When I embark."
Never a man of many words, there were no
farewell messages ; but his gentle and loving life
amongst his friends had given his message : —
" In the fear of the Lord is strong confidence ;
and His children shall have a place of refuge."
Cyril M. Gregory, 23 6 llmo. 1896
Newton Abbott. Son of Alfred and Frances E
Joseph Groves, 77 15 llmo. 1896
David Hall, 69 5 12mo. 1896
Thomas W. Hall, 44 19 2mo. 1897
Waverton, nr.. Wigton.
Elizabeth Handley, 57 16 3mo. 1897
Joseph Hickton, 69 8 5mo. 1897
Maria K. Higginbotham, 62 23 9mo. 1897
James H. Hodgkinson, 35 23 6mo. 1897
Jane Hodgson, 82 13 12mo. 1896.
Cheadle. Widow of John Hodgson.
John Hodkinson, 72 20 8mo. 1897.
James Hopper, 68 8 5mo. 1897.
William Hopper, 84 5 lOmo. 1896.
Douglas Houlsby, 39 26 lmo. 1897.
By hope , Sunderland.
Francis Howitt, 60 29 3mo. 1897.
Ann Hunt, 86 19 4mo. 1897.
Bristol. A Minister.
" The path of the just is as a shining light
which shineth more and more, unto the perfect
day." This text in a remarkable way illustrates
the life of this beloved Friend. The greater part
of her life was passed in much seclusion ; for
though always greatly valued by her own near
circle of friends, it was not until the shadows
began to lengthen that she was able freely to
devote her powers to the claims of the Church
Her earlier years had been from many causes
those of much conflict and of deep sorrow ; but
the storm-clouds had become irradiated with
heavenly light, and it was from the rich stores of
her own chastened experience that she was
enabled to give out both counsel and sympathy in
" With silence only as their benediction
God's angels come,
Where in the shadow of a great affliction
The soul sits dumb."
Ann Hunt was born on the 21st of Tenth
month, 1810, and was the daughter of Henry and
She was a high-spirited girl, and in playing
with her brothers sustained an injury to the spine
which entailed throughout her life considerable
weakness and suffering. At an early age she
lost her beloved mother, a loss which was very
acutely felt, and which involved for her a large
amount of care over the younger members of the
family, one of whom had been from childhood
a hopeless invalid. Thus she became early
trained in that thoughtfulness for others which,
in after life, was perfected by Christian love into
a power of sympathy which enabled her to put
herself side by side with those who came to her,
and by that close touch, gave her an entrance to
their hearts, and also a subtle comprehension of
character, which when combined with the glow
of a loving heart is the secret of a wonderful
The home of Henry Hunt was for many-
years at the Fort, Bristol. It was a stately home
belonging to the olden time, with a tower and
a walled garden and fine old elm trees — a house
much secluded from public gaze. Here Ann
Hunt grew up to womanhood, romantic in her
feelings and full of high aspiration.
We cannot tell when her heart was first
given to the Lord's service. She went through
much spiritual conflict, but early memoranda
show an intense desire to be wholly dedicated,
combined with many morbid fears and doubts as
to her firm foundation on the Rock of Ages. On
the 22nd of Tenth month, 1826, she writes : —
" Yesterday was the sixteenth anniversary of my
birth. I have lived thus long — alas ! with how
little dedication to the Divine will. Oh ! that I
may be favoured to feel more living and earnest
desires after the true riches, after that pearl of
great price, that living water of which if a man
drink he shall never die. Grant, Holy Jesus,
that I may be enabled to feel more and more
after Thee, to worship Thee in spirit and in truth.
Oh ! Thou Lamb of God, Thou great and mighty
One, Thou knowest that the chief desire of my
sinful and corrupt heart is that it may be cleansed.
Enable me to become Thine I beseech Thee,
though it may cost me much. Throw down my
idols if I have any that stand in the way ; and
oh ! let Thy devouring fire burn up the chaff."
It was about this time that her sensitive
nature sustained a severe blow in the death of a
young friend of her own age, to whom she had
become almost passionately attached. This event
threw for a time a dark shadow over her life, and
resulted in deepening her resolution to become a
yet more devoted follower of the Lord Jesus
A strong impression took possession of her
soul, that God had called her into a more public
profession for Him, and that He required the
service of her lips, as well as of the heart. Her
sensitive and timid nature shrank from the
sacrifice in an inexpressible degree, and the
conflict of her soul lasted through a long series of
She had an only sister, to whom she was
most tenderly attached, and whose nature seemed
complementary to her own. They shared the
same life and the same interests ; and when in
1865, this beloved one died, it was a deep and
abiding sorrow in her heart. The death of her
sister increased the pressure of home claims,
which became very absorbing ; but even at that
time there was forming around her a large circle
of devoted friends, on whom her influence was
strong and enduring.
She had a very fine intellect, and her company
was bright and fascinating. With a great gift
of conversational power, she united an unusual
versatility of interest in passing events, with
which she always kept herself abreast. There
was an expansive power in her nature which gave
her a strong influence over thoughtful and intel-
ligent minds. Whilst holding evangelical truth
with a firm grasp, she was open to receive fresh
light, and thus was able to avoid those stereotyped
views in which people advancing in life are too
apt to become set. The questions of the day
were deeply interesting to her. She hailed the
revised version of the Bible with warm approval,
while on the practical side she took great interest
in First-day Schools and in Home and Foreign
Missions. She was for some years Superintendent
of the Girls' First-day School.
It was not until the year 1873 that the bonds
were broken which had held her so fast, and her
mouth was opened in the ministry, first at Cleve-
don, and afterwards at Torquay, and then from
time to time in her own meeting ; and help
"little short of miraculous " was given, in deliver-
ance from the weakness of the flesh. She writes
to a friend : — " Spite of all difficulties within and
without, it seemed as if there were the dear
Master's call to a little service, and the presence of
any mortal were as nothing to me. The fear, the
inexpressible shrinking, was gone. I can but
mention it to the praise of Him who condescends
to the very meanest and most feeble of those
whose desire is to be His, and to do His will."
From this time, her voice was not unfrequently
heard ; and her ministry was much valued.
Though she always retained "a timidity of utter-
ance," and her words were accompanied with
deep humility, yet a spiritual power attended
them which gave a sense of living communion
with God ; and she was a faithful steward of the
She was recorded as a minister in the early
part of 1876. At the end of the year, in reference
to it, she writes : — " Do Thou graciously carry on
Thy work as it pleaseth Thee ; suffer nothing to
mar its progress ; and for us who venture to speak
in Thy name, be pleased to give more love for
Christ and communion with Him and fellowship
one with another ; more life, and power and
liberty; that if it please Thee there may be an
awakening out of sleep and a putting on of
strength in Thy name, to the blessing of our little
Church and exaltation of Thy glorious name,
through and with the blessed Saviour."
Her public service was chiefly confined to
her own Quarterly Meeting. In conjunction with
her dear friend Joseph Storrs Fry, she paid a
series of family visits in the years 1884 and 1885,
in which nearly every household in the compass
of Bristol and Somerset Quarterly Meeting were
included. It was striking to observe with
what interest and discrimination she entered into
sympathy with persons in varied circumstances,
and how appropriately the message was delivered
with delicacy and tact. Her habitual diffidence
and humility were remarkably combined with
christian courage in speaking the word in season,
as occasion called for it. It was an arduous
service, but was attended with much blessing.
In the year 1874, after the death of her
step-mother, E. H. Hunt, she left the Fort, and
removed to a house in Brunswick Square. It
was chosen as being near the meeting house, and
her home became a centre for some of the
christian work which was going on in connec-
tion with "The Friars "; and many a gathering
was held there, which had for its object aid to
the young, and the advancement of the spiritual
life of the Church.
In the year 1888, Ann Hunt underwent an
operation for cataract, which was successfully
performed ; and great was her joy and thankful-
ness at this renewal of her bodily powers, and her
desire was great that these should be wholly
given to her Lord. At the close of the year she
writes : — "I am alone this evening, remembering
the way by which I have been led these almost
double forty years in the wilderness, as through
fire and through water. Yet I have been brought
even to this hour. My heart is bowed down
within me, and may thankfulness and praise be
the covering of my spirit through all the days
that are to run."
Throughout her life she had had a charm for
children. The young of all ages were drawn
towards her, and now in this time of weakened
sight, a band of young Friends devoted a little
time every week to come and read to her. This
intercourse proved so mutually delightful that
sometimes when the hour was past, the book had
hardly been opened. Many look back on these
visits as times of real help and blessing.
It would be difficult to exaggerate the
brightness of her life at this period. " At
evening time there shall be light." The shadows
of former days had fled away. She was sur-
rounded by dear relations and devoted friends.
Old and young, rich and poor, flocked to her, sure
of finding help, or counsel, or sympathy, all
attracted by her sweetness, and many eager to
share the rich intelligence of her cultivated
The illness which terminated the life of our
dear friend began with an attack of influenza
in the early part of 1895. The doctor thought
that at her advanced age there was little hope of
her recovery ; but with her strong constitution
and the great care taken, she began to improve,
and at the time of Yearly Meeting she accepted
the warm invitation of her friend Joseph Storrs
Fry to try the benefit of change at his house on
the beautiful Downs. She was able to enjoy
many drives in the neighbourhood, and the fine
air did her good ; but she did not regain her
strength. In the following Tenth month she had
a strong accession of illness from bronchitis, and
was obliged to take to her bed, and was never
During this long breaking down of the
earthly tabernacle there was throughout great
weakness of body, so that it was with almost
startling contrast that her spirit shone out so full
of strength, and the power of taking unabated
interest in all that concerned the welfare of her
friends. Their visits formed the great pleasure
of her life. Her heart was always open to them 7
and many can acknowledge that they came to her
bedside often with downcast hearts, and left it
with fresh courage for the struggle of life.
" Sweet promptings unto kindest deeds
Were in her very look ;
We read her face, as one who reads
A true and holy book.
The measure of a blessed hymn,
To which our hearts could move ;
The breathing of an inward psalm,
A canticle of love.
The advancement of the Kedeemer's king-
dom held the foremost place on her heart, and all
that concerned the well-being of Friends as a
religious Society was especially dear. Nothing
gave her greater joy than to hear of young
li ves dedicated to God's service ; while her interest
was keenly awakened on behalf of oppressed and
suffering humanity. She liked to hear the daily
papers read to her, with the speeches of eminent
men ; and none of all the leading events of the
day were passed by as unimportant or uninter-
No less striking was the sweetness of her
temper through all her wearying illness. Those
around were cheered not only by her smiles, but
by the playful sallies which so often lightened
the tedium of the hours of watching. She had
the gift, not only of rendering sympathy, but
of receiving it also. The constant little attentions
paid her, and the lovely flowers brought to her
bedside gave her intense pleasure, and she was
always ready to express the gratitude she felt to
her friends, and to the great Giver of all her
It was during an acute attack in Twelfth
month, when she nearly passed away, that she
received an impression that her life would be
prolonged a little while ; and so it proved. It
became however increasingly difficult to her to
converse, although with sweet smiles she wel-
comed all who came ; and it was evident that her
words had the sacred character of last messages.
To two very old friends who came from a dis-
tance to see her within a fortnight of her death,
she said, " Yes, it gets brighter and brighter,
instead of duller and duller. All is clear, more
than ever. Sometimes I have such beautiful
thoughts, many things come into my mind as I
lie here." Then she continued, " All have a
service ; we must not think because we are laid
by there is nothing for us to do." She was
reminded, " They also serve, who only stand and
wait " ; to which she replied, " He filleth the
waiting soul with goodness."
One day soon after, she said she felt as if
there was scarcely any physical strength left in
her, and when the remark was made — " But the
spiritual remains," she replied, "Yes, the one is
renewed, the other not." She asked that the text
from u Daily Light " might be read over again.
It was from Ephesians, — " God who is rich in
mercy, for His great love wherewith He loved
us, hath raised us up together and made us sit
together in heavenly places in Christ Jesus. Her
kind watcher remarked, " That is yours is it not ?"
Her reply was, " I don't like to say too much
about things. I often think whilst we think we
are glorifying Christ we are in reality glorifying
ourselves. There is great danger. Self is very
Once she said, " I feel peaceful ; I never
had anything to trust to but God's mercy in
Christ, and that I trust to now. I feel He has
taken me to be His own." Her heart seemed full
of messages to her friends. To one she quoted
the text—" I know whom I have believed, and
He is able . . . " At the end of another, " He
loved me and gave Himself for me." When
almost wandering — " It is time for Jesus to
come." " You would like to go to Him? " " I
have gone to Him already " ; thus uttering the
deep experience of many years. On the follow-
ing day, the 19th of Fourth month, her first
thought in the morning seemed to be for an
absent friend ; her message ended with the verse
of Baxter's hymn —
' ' My knowledge of that life is small,
The eye of faith is dim ;
But 'tis enough that Christ knows all,
And I shall be with Him."
Through utterance failing she was not able to
complete the lines.
Great restlessness and pain throughout the
day were borne with unfailing patience, but she
was conscious throughout. Once she said, " I
shall soon be gone"; her friend said, "You
remember the Ministry and Oversight Meeting is
to-night ! " " Yes ! "
At length, in the gloaming, the sanctified
spirit was gently released from the shadows of
earth to the light of an endless day.
" And there shall be no night there ; and they
need no candle, neither light of the sun, for the
Lord God giveth them light, and they shall reign
for ever and ever.''
" There is the throne of David ;
And there from care released,
The shout of them that triumph,
The song of them that feast.
And they who with their Leader
Have conquered in the fight,
For ever and for ever
Are clad in robes of white."
John B. Hutchinson, 69 5 8mo. 1897.
Lucy Hutchinson, 63 7 12mo. 1896.
Bubvrith. Wife of William Hutchinson.
Agatha S. Jackson, 64 3 8mo. 1897.
Old Tr afford. Wife of William Jackson.
Anne Jackson, 79 28 2mo. 1897.
John Jackson, 52 22 lmo. 1897.
Thomas Jackson, 78 7 2mo. 1897.
Starbuck L. James, 22 15 7mo. 1897.
Truro. Son of Silvanus and Eliza James.
Mary Jerdison, 73 17 lmo. 1897.
Bishopwearmouth. Widow of William Jerdison.
Thomas B. John, 39 16 2mo. 1897.
Arthur Johnson, 50 15 2mo. 1897.
Benjamin Johnson, 79 3 4mo. 1897.
Elizabeth P. Johnson, 64 29 8mo. 1897.
Barking. Wife of Philip Johnson.
Martha Johnson, — 28 9mo. 1897.
Mary Jones, 71 4 lmo. 1897.
Leeds. Wife of Joseph Jones.
Joseph Kelsall, 77 25 6mo. 1897.
Wyresdale. An Elder.
Elizabeth Kerr, 14mo29 lmo. 1897.
Bessbroolc. Daughter of Thomas and Sarah
Sarah Kerr, 64 3 3mo. 1897.
Grange, Co. 'Tyrone. Widow of James Kerr.
.Richard Kidd, 85 5 2mo. 1897.
MaryKincey, 72 11 2mo. 1897.
Ann Lovell King 79 11 6mo. 1897.
Robert W. King, 27 23 6mo. 1897.
Eccles. Son of William and Ann F. King.
Susan L. Knight, 76 12 9mo. 1897.
Weston-super-Mare. Widow of Alfred Knight.
ANN K. LURY.
Christopher Knowles, 74 17 12mo. 1896.
Bentham. A Minister.
Hannah Lamb, 67 7 2mo. 1897.
Sibford. Wife of Richard H. Lamb.
Samuel Lawrence, 84 13 3mo. 1897.
Annie Lawton, 38 1 4mo. 1897.
New castle-on- Tyne. Wife of John Lawton.
John Lawton, 80 20 4mo. 1897.
Susanna Leoky, 59 22 lOmo. 1896.
Ann Leigh, 73 12 6mo. 1897.
Westhoughton. Widow of John Leigh.
Ann K. Lury, 81 13 3mo. 1897.
Clevedon. Widow of Samuel H. Lury.
Ann K. Lury was the eldest daughter of
Robert and Jane Eaton of Swansea, and her
childhood's home was a very happy one, her
bright, loving, unselfish spirit made her beloved
by all with whom she came in contact. When
through no fault of his, her father's bank had to
be closed soon after she left school, she worked
indefatigably in picking and sending fruit to the
market, making cheese for sale, and training her
young brothers and sisters to work, trying ito find
out what each was best suited for. In this way
they were able to keep their beautiful home until
the bank was re-opened with no loss to anyone
but themselves : and may we not say that this
early trial and training brought forth rich fruit in
In the autumn of 1838 she was married to
Samuel Harford Lury, of Bristol, and at first the
restraints of city life were trying to one who was
used to riding over the moors and hills near her
In 1840 a son was born, and about the same
time her mother died, and a few weeks after her
father, bringing thought and care and suffering
upon her when not quite twenty-four, which were
unmurmuringly and patiently borne.
At this time she was rarely willing to speak
of her spiritual experience ; but as years went on,
all around her noticed a change in this respect,
and her testimony to her Saviour's love to her,
and his power to save from sin was clear and
In 1858, after a sojourn of six years in
Tottenham, all her husband's property was lost
owing to the unprincipled conduct of an agent,
and he took his family to reside for a while in
the South of France to try and recover as much
as he could. With a face unshadowed by this
ANN K. LURY.
trial, she dismissed her servants with the excep-
tion of one who would not leave her, and did her
best to teach and do everything for the four child-
ren who went with them. This was a time never to
be forgotten, and the example of both parents in
many difficulties, always u seeking first the King-
dom of God and His righteousness," did much to
mould the characters of their children.
In 1859 a move was made to Saffron Walden,
where for sixteen years she led a busy life of
ministry to others.
After returning to Bristol for fourteen years,
they remos 7 ed to Clevedon, and the last six years
were very happy ones. She was weak and ill
when her beloved husband was taken to his
heavenly home after an illness of two days,
and she was then in daily expectation of
following him ; but to the surprise of all she
rallied, and though never again able to leave
her bed, she lived — waiting her Lord's time as
she said — for four years and a half. An
expression often on her lips, if her daughters
were called away, was " Don't trouble about me."
She passed peacefully away after a week'^
illness, three of her children being with her.
Just before the end she said, " I have nothing to
wait for, I know whom I have believed." She
sent a message of love and blessing to her eldest
daughter who was not able to return from
America in time to see her again. When realiz-
ing this she said, " God knows best."
Sarah E. Malcomson, 30 29 5mo. 1897.
Belfast. Daughter of James and Sarabella
Lucy A.Marfleet, 41 6 llmo. 1896.
JBassingham, Lincoln. Wife of Edward H.
Alfred Marriage, 81 25 5mo. 1897.
James B. Marriage, 73 25 4mo. 1897.
Jane Martin, 90 3 3mo. 1897.
Sophia May, 67 7 9mo. 1897.
Sophia May was the fourth daughter of
Edward Curtis and Caroline May of Tottenham.
Although there is nothing very striking to record
in her uneventful life, we believe there are many
in the circle of those who knew and loved her,
who will be interested in gathering up a few
reminiscences of one whose faithfulness in friend-
ship, and whose loving interest in all that
concerned the welfare of others, were so marked.
During the few years of her school life at Lewes
she formed several friendships, and her warm
heart clung to these school friends as long as she
lived ; whilst, like many others of that happy
band, she ever retained a thankful sense of the
high tone of the school, under the excellent
superintendence of the three saintly sisters, M.,
M., and J. S. Dymond, who have long since gone
to their heavenly home. Her unfailing bright-
ness and lively manners made her a general
favourite with the girls, whilst her strict con-
scientiousness in carrying out her duties gained
her the love and respect of her teachers.
Although not so gifted as her sister Anna
M. Ashby (see " Annual Monitor, " 1887), she
was always fond of reading and intellectual
pursuits, with an intelligent appreciation of
standard authors ; and she often regretted the
large amount of indiscriminate novel reading in
the present day, and especially the lowering
character of the unrefined, sensational stories now
so common. Yet she could enjoy a high-toned
clever work of fiction, whilst giving the first
place to more solid reading.
S. May was an excellent German scholar,
and her fluency in speaking this language
increased her warm interest in the German
Fatherland. Her tastes were always refined, and
she delighted in the beautiful, whether in Nature
or in Art. Although never writing much poetry,
there was a poetical vein which found occasional
expression, and her love of nature w r as intense.
The following lines, written after a visit to the
Channel Islands in 1859, are an index to her
feelings on these points ; and she thoroughly
enjoyed travelling and the study of character in
her own and other lands : —
For the vast beauty of the heaving sea,
Which fills my soul like powerful harmony,
Which teaches us of Thy infinity,
I thank Thee, oh my God !
For the sweet tenderness of gentle flowers,
Hid by the shaded brook 'mid bowery ferns,
Looking that peace for which the spirit yearns,
I thank Thee, oh my God !
For the deep music of the mighty rocks,
Rising above all littleness toward Thee,
Untroubled by the ever chafing sea,
I thank Thee, oh my God !
Would I could thank Thee better! mighty rock,
Infinite sea, meek fern and floweret
Praise Thee without this yearning and regret,
Which mars the song that rises unto Thee.
Lean my weak soul, oh Mighty One, on Thee,
Teach me Thy praise, oh God.
S. May's sympathy with sorrow and suffer-
ing was boundless ; she sought out hidden cases,
and by kind acts and loving letters was able to
pour in the oil of consolation and help. She
was specially interested in the poor Bosnians, to
whom she devoted much time, in collecting sub-
scriptions, in sending, with the help of many
others, parcels of clothing, and to the end of her
life, in helping to maintain the school for girls.
The Home of Rest at Buckhurst Hill, for young
women engaged in business, under the care of
the Misses Reynolds, was also an object of much
interest to her, and she frequently obtained for
it practical help by her notices of it in the
" Friend " and the u Christian."
Naturally generous and enthusiastic, she
threw her whole energies into whatever she
undertook, and thus inspirited those around her.
Her sympathy extended to all living things, and
she did not like to see the smallest creature
suffer, interesting herself in the societies formed
for the protection of children and animals ; and,
like her honoured father, she had an extreme
aversion to vivisection.
She hailed with delight efforts in the cause
of peace, believing all war to be contrary to the
teaching of Jesus Christ ; and she was for
several years secretary to the Tottenham branch
of the British and Foreign Bible Society.
S. May keenly felt the death of her beloved
mother, who passed away in 1885 (see "Annual
Monitor " for 1887), and to whose declining
years she had tenderly ministered, as the only
home-daughter. This event caused the break-up
of the happy home in Bruce Grove, and she
never again had a settled residence. Notwith-
standing that she had many kind relations and
friends, the sense of loneliness was at times
almost overpowering to her clinging, sensitive
nature ; but it gave her a power of sympathy
with other lonely ones that nothing else could
After spending six months with a dear
sister and nieces at Bournemouth, in delicate
health, she moved to Ipswich in the 7th month,
1897, hoping the change would be beneficial ;
and in the comfortable home of her sister,
E. Sims, she spent the last two months of suffer-
ing and weariness, longing to go to that Heavenly
home which she had long felt so near to her.
Her religion was simple, earnest, and broad
in the best sense. She loved to unite with
almost all sections of the Christian Church, not
caring for theology and doctrinal controversies,
but maintaining a firm faith in the Fatherhood
of God, and in Jesus as a personal Saviour and
Friend. To her, prayer was a blessed reality, a
constant help and comfort. She held commun-
ion with God through Christ, and when the end
came it found her fully ready, waiting for the
call up higher.
Her favourite text book was the "Threefold
Cord," published by the Religions Tract Society,
and she sometimes said that the daily precept,
promise, and prayer it contains afforded her more
spiritual food than many a longer portion of
In her last letter to a life-long friend she
wrote, " Pray for me, dearest — that I may not
murmur. During the last three months I have
cast many longing looks towards that Home
where there shall be no more pain." Shortness
of breathing and tendency to faintness prevented
much conversation. She liked to be very quiet ;
and one who lovingly watched over her during
the last days of her life writes: — " She has shown
wonderful patience, gentleness and consideration
for others during her illness." On the last
Sabbath, the sister who was sitting with her
noticed that the weary suffering look was
exchanged for a time for a brighter, restful one ;
and she not only enjoyed hearing, but prompted
her sister, C. Mounsey, in repeating the 46th
Psalm. She remarked to her devoted nurse also
that day, " The great Physician will soon come.' 7
And so trusting in Him, she was peacefully
brought unto her desired haven.
Jane Meade, 78 2 8mo. 1897.
Newbridge, Co. Kildare. An Elder. Widow
of Thomas W. Meade.
Mary McConnell, 29 19 4mo. 1897.
Crosshill, Glasgow. Wife of James McConnell.
John W. McEwen, 38 1 4mo. 1897.
Nathanael Miles, 72 1 3mo. 1897.
Ruth Mills, 69 13 3mo. 1897.
Susan Mitten, 50 28 5mo. 1897.
Maria Monument, 80 31 3mo. 1897.
Hunstanton. Wife of Henry Monument.
Jane Mothersdale, 38 12 12mo. 1896.
Bishopwear mouth .
Sarah C. Muggeridge, 68 12 12mo. 1896.
Pulborough. A Minister. Widow of Benjamin
It is an agreeable duty to record the faith of
those whose vocation it is to till the ground,
a class to which many Friends belonged in the
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
early days of the Society, but which is now
represented by very few.
Benjamin and Sarah Muggeridge, members
of the Church of England, occupied a farm
near Warriham in Surrey. As time went on
doubts arose in their minds regarding the
scriptural authority of infant baptism, and the
vows made by god-parents. By means of a
singular incident these doubts were confirmed,
and were extended to other practices of the
Church of England. Sarah Muggeridge was
acquainted with a poor woman to whom a Friend
had lent George Fox's Journal. The woman
asked her to take the book back to the Friend,
saying at the same time : " When I change my
religion I shall turn Quaker." S. Muggeridge
sharply replied : " When you do that, mind, T have
done with you." On which the woman exclaimed :
u I am surprised to hear you say that, Mrs.
Muggeridge, for you are just like them."
S. Muggeridge returned to her house in some
ill-humour at being told she resembled the
Quakers, a community whom she despised,
although she was entirely ignorant of their tenets.
She thrust the book into the cupboard, out of
sight, till she should have an opportunity of
giving it back. But the woman's words had
fastened on her mind, and curiosity to know
in what respect she was like the despised Quakers
overcame her repugnance. She took down the
book and began to read, but impatience with
what she found soon caused her to return it to its
place, only however to take it down again and
again until she became deeply interested, and
brought it under the notice of her husband. The
doubts which had perplexed their minds were
solved, and many other observances in which they
had been educated were set in their true light.
Amongst these was the authority by which
ministers of Christ claim tithes, a law of the
Old Testament which has no place whatever in
the gospel dispensation. Beading one; day in the
Journal, she came upon this point, and running
out to her husband, who was at work in the barn ?
she told him what she had found.
The truth contained in George Fox's Journal
wrought with as much power in B. Muggeridge's
heart as in that of his wife. He had been in the
habit of smoking during the winter evenings.
Now, the desire to become acquainted with the
book which had fallen into their hands exceeded
the enjoyment of his pipe, which he laid
aside never to be resumed. It was not long
before they sought out the Friends, and began to
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
attend the little meeting at Cape], six miles
distant from the farm. The meetings were
frequently held in silence, but those who
assembled there were often favoured to partake
together of the Bread of Life.
In 1866 B. and S. Muggeridge were admitted
members of the Society of Friends. The clergy-
man of the parish was grieved in this way to
lose members of his congregation, and when two
of their infant children in succession were taken
away by death, he told them it was a judgment
from the Lord for their error. Sarah Muggeridge
was at first greatly distressed with this reproach,
but was comforted and reassured by a letter
from an aged Friend who was drawn into
sympathy with her, and she spoke afterwards of
the "powerful arm which upheld me when
censured by those to whom I had looked up for
guidance, and strengthened me to bear with
patience the trials which I had to encounter."
S. Muggeridge soon found that she could not
keep for herself alone the pearl of great price of
which she had become possessed, and was often
engaged in preaching the gospel in the little
meeting to which she belonged. For some years
also she held a religious meeting in the farm
kitchen, which was attended by a number of her
neighbours. In 1879 she was recorded as a
In 1881 they removed to a farm near
Pulborough in Sussex.
A strong feature in S. Muggeridge's char-
acter was the fearless manner in which she
defended the oppressed. Several instances
of this kind are related. In the following
case she stood forth as champion of her
own rights as well as of those of her neigh-
The part of Sussex into which the family
had removed was a hunting country, and it was
understood between landlord and tenant that the
foxes should not be meddled with, but that all
losses in poultry sustained by their depredations
should be refunded. The tenants in this case
seem to have observed their part of the compact,
but the compensation was not forthcoming. The
Muggeridges raised poultry of the choicest kind,
so much so that on several occasions their fowls
found their way to the Queen's table. One
night the foxes got into their poultry yard and
killed thirty-one fowls, the mangled remains of
which were found lying in all directions. To
prevent a recurrence of such slaughter the fowls
were shut up at night ; but the cunning poachers
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
were not thus to be baulked of their supper ; they
took to daylight marauding.
Our Friends had a daughter who was half
blind, and who had brought up a brood of twelve
chickens. Just as these were ready for market
a fox discovered them and carried off ten out of
the twelve. Benjamin Muggeridge was a man.
of a retiring and patient spirit ; but this was
more than he could bear. He said to his wife : —
" Rather than fall out with our landlord and
the 'Hunt' I have hitherto borne my losses,,
but to think that dear child has groped her way
about for months to feed and care for those
fowls, and now her labour is all lost, is more than
I can stand. Have the foxes destroyed/' His
wife rejoiced to hear this, for she had already
made up her mind, and was only waiting for the
word of command from her husband. Before
going to work, however, she gave repeated notice
of her purpose to the secretary of the " Hunt
Poultry Fund." No attention was paid to the
warning, it being considered impossible that any
tenant would venture to do so monstrous a deed
as to kill a fox. But as S. Muggeridge said : —
" I had worked too hard in order to find money
for our exorbitant rent to care for or fear any
So a fox was killed, much to the satisfaction
of the neighbours.
Reynard's disappearance on this occa-
sion does not seem to have attracted much
attention. As the nightly poaching still went
on, it was necessary again to set the trap. The
day on which this was done both the Friends
were absent, the husband at his market town on
business, and the wife at their Quarterly Meeting,
many miles distant. It was with a divided mind
that she left home, for the first " Meet" of the
season in that part of the country was to take
jplace that day.
In the meeting for worship which preceded
the Quarterly Meeting, a minister, in his discourse
alluded to George Fox, and the courageous and
noble manner in which he defended the rights of
men in the presence of overbearing magistrates.
The example seemed to Sarah Muggeridge to be
exactly applicable to herself ; and instead of
remaining away for a night as usual, she returned
home, prepared to defend herself and her neigh-
bours if need should be.
She found that a fox had indeed been trapped,
and that her servant had made what he called an
exhibition. He had skinned the animal, nailed
the carcase to the barn door, and hung up the
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
skin on the top of a pole. The hounds seem to*
have come upon the scent of this very fox, and
the " Field," containing amongst others, several
noblemen or titled squires, one of whom was the-
Muggeridge's landlord, came down right on the*
farm. When they saw the skin, they cried out : —
" Why that's the very fox we have been looking
for all day." They were in a towering rage, and
two of our Friends' sons, mere boys, who had
been enjoying the exhibition, came in for a plenti-
ful share of abuse. The landlord left word that
he would be out with a shooting party next day y
and would call at the farm to take lunch. It is
the custom of landlords in that part of England,,
when out hunting or shooting, to make use, in
this way, of their tenants' houses, taking their
provisions with them. His visit was preceded
by a call, at 9 in the morning, from the Secretary
to the Poultry Fund. This official, who reckoned
upon easily frightening Sarah Muggeridge, was-
not a little disconcerted when she told him that
she would have every fox destroyed that could
be got at, for she had lost all confidence in
the honour of foxhunters. So he changed his-
tone and said: "Will you take £100, and
promise us not to kill any more foxes ? " She
replied: "Certainly not; I don't want your
money ; but if thou hast £100 to dispose of,
go and pay my neighbours around who have
•suffered in the same way, and if after that there is
anything left, come and pay me." He answered :
We don't care about your neighbours." "No,"
she replied, " but I do." " Then you won't give
'US a written promise not to destroy foxes ? "
She answered, " No," and was going on, when he
interrupted her with, "You have given us pretty
good reason to know that you mean what you
say " ; and without more words he left the
Not long afterwards came the landlord with
Ms son and two other gentlemen. Whilst brush-
ing off the mud from their boots at the front
•door, the son said in a sarcastic tone : — " How are
the foxes getting on Mrs. Muggeridge ? " She
replied: "Two of them are quiet enough, I am
happy to say." On which the squire broke in : —
"Come, come that's too bad; you haven't had
two destroyed surely." She quietly answered : —
u The truth may be unpalatable, but I have had
two destroyed." The son then cried out : — " The
blood of the foxes be on your head, Mrs.
Muggeridge ! " " The blood of foxes will wash
off," she replied, "but acts of injustice are not so
^easily got rid of." " Did your husband," he
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
retorted, " come down here with his eyes shut *
didn't he know it was a fox-preserving country ?
She answered : " Certainly he did not come here
with his eyes shut ; but in taking the farm he
supposed he had to do with honourable men who
would not let him be the loser by their sport."
As soon as lunch was over, the squire dis-
missed his son and his companions to go on with
their sport, and sent for S. Muggeridge. The
interview was stormy ; the squire talked long
and passionately, insisting on the intolerable
annoyance it was to himself and the other
gentlemen of the Hunt to have their sport thus
marred. " You ought," he said, " to be willing
to promote our sport." " Never," says she,.
" shall I forget the calm which was over my
spirit as he poured out his feelings. When he-
had finished, I bade him remember that we
were working hard to pay him a high rent for a
poor farm, and expressed my surprise that the
man to whom we had looked up for all that was
right and just could stand by and suffer such op-
pression. I told him also that I could not under-
stand how he and others who held the position of
magistrate, could sentence to three months'
imprisonment a poor man who took a fowl to*
satisfy the cravings of hunger, whilst the object
of their sport was allowed to rob their neighbours'
farmyards with impunity, and they were un-
willing to make any compensation." On hearing
this appeal, tears came into the gentleman's eyes
and he said : " I often say things which, half-an-
hour afterwards, I am sorry for. You shall be
paid Mrs. Muggeridge, I'll see you are paid."
Then giving her his hand he said, " We will part
good friends ; we will part good friends, I say ;
and don't think me hard."
" That night" (we quote S.M.'s own words)
u the keeper was sent with two brace of phea-
sants, with the squire's compliments, and a day
or two afterwards came a cheque for our account.
They paid us and our neighbours in full, and
have paid in full ever since. From that time
till his death the squire and we were the best of
friends ; and whenever during his illness he sent
•us a present, he always wrote the labels for the
birds with his own hand." To this it may be
added that when a severe domestic affliction befell
the squire, Sarah Muggeridge was the means of
•administering comfort to him and his lady, as
well as afterwards to himself on his death-bed.
It was not so much to the wants of a con-
gregation, as in privately ministering to the poor,
the sick and the sinful, that Sarah Muggeridge's
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
gift was exercised. A poor woman who, during
the time of health, had manifested but little
regard for religion, was stricken with fever.
Through S. Muggeridge's visits she became
earnestly desirous to know her sins forgiven,
and she found a loving Father's mercy was
awaiting her acceptance. As death drew near
she said to her daughter : " Ann, carry me a
little further to where the little children are : "
signifying that, being a babe in Christ, her place
would be with the little children. She passed
peacefully away with her hand clasped in S.M.'s.
Sarah Muggeridge was much interested in
an aged couple who could not read nor write, to
whom she frequently read and expounded the
Scriptures. A neighbour one day meeting the
old woman, spoke to her of her friend. " She is
a good woman," she said, " but her religion is
not right, you know." To which the other
answered : " Pray can you tell me where she is
wrong ? She reads out of the same book as you
do, and speaks of the same God." No attempt
was made to answer the question.
One day when occupied with the duties of
the house, Sarah Muggeridge felt it laid upon
her to go at once to the house of a woman
Friend about two miles distant. On her arrival
she found the husband in great distress on
account of his wife. She had locked herself in
her room, and would not admit anyone. He
asked S.M. to go upstairs to her. On knocking
for admission a voice answered, " Who is there ? n
and when she heard the name, the poor woman
opened the door. She had sunk into a dejected
state of mind and had been sorely tempted to
destroy herself, so much so that she had three
times gone to the pond intending to throw herself
in, but each time had been restrained. Her
friend's sympathy and counsel were the means
of imparting fresh strength to her, so that the
temptation never returned.
In 1889 S. Muggeridge was called upon to
part with her beloved husband. His consistent
character, rather than his words, bore witness for
the Master whose service he loved. Words
were not wanting, however, when the occasion
required it. Being summoned on a jury, and
the New Testament handed to him to swear
upon, he quietly refused to take it, saying :—
"That book commands me not to sw T ear."
Although this happened many years ago, the
judge respected his scruples, and excused him
In 1893 Sarah Muggeridge was laid by with
SARAH C. MUGGERIDGE.
a serious illness, from which she only partially
recovered, remaining an invalid till her death.
Although no longer able to pursue her former
active life, her energetic spirit survived, and her
invalid's chair was the centre of the busy home.
In Tenth month, 1896, she became more ill, and
had to endure a season of severe suffering until
death came to her release. Throughout this
period of trial she was kept in perfect peace,
speaking often of the goodness and mercy of
God, and exhorting those about her to place
their unreserved trust and confidence in Him.
When the pain was most acute she was often
heard to say: "If ye would reign with Me, ye
must also suffer with Me"; and "Thy will be
done," a motto which she desired might be placed
on her memorial card.
During the last two days her spirit was in
Heaven rather' than on earth, and she spoke to
her daughters, who watched beside her, of bright
visions she had seen. On the last night she
prayed : " Oh Lord, cut short the work of suffer-
ing, if in accordance with Thy will," and added
" In Thy presence is fulness of joy."
Eliza Mussen, 82 31 3mo. 1897.
Omagh. Widow of Thomas Mussen.
John Nainby, 79 6 3mo. 1897.
Martha Naunton, 75 3 2mo. 1897.
Mary Neave, 87 29 12mo. 1896.
Ipswich. Widow of Samuel Neave.
Isabella Nellist, 67 5 9mo. 1897.
Horbury. Widow of John Nellist.
Charles Nelson, 64 5 2mo. 1897.
Ann Noble, 86 17 7mo. 1897.
Beading. Widow of William Noble.
Sarah Ord, 78 19 9mo. 1897.
George Palmer, 79 19 8mo. 1897.
Ann Parkhurst, 76 9 4mo. 1897.
Horsham. Widow of Hemy Parkhurst.
John Payne, 72 5 6mo. 1897.
George W. Pearman, 57 23 12mo. 1896.
Henry Fell Pease, 58 6 12mo. 1896.
Bernard C. Penney, 6 29 9mo. 1897.
Melksham. Son of Norman and Mary Alice
James D. Penrose, 68 24 9mo. 1897.
Margaret M. Penrose, 72 9 4mo. 1897.
Isaac Perry, 78 25 12mo. 1896.
John G. Perry, 60 2 5mo. 1897.
Edgar Pickard, 35 27 3mo. 1897.
Michael Pickard, 73 2 lOmo. 1897.
Lake Bank, near Hawheshead.
Simeon Pontefract, 70 19 7mo. 1897.
Hannah C. Poole, 70 1 7mo. 1897.
Ballybeg, Ferns. Widow of Jacob Poole.
Kichard F. Potter, 20 6 4mo. 1897.
M'mster Lovell, Son of Richard and Frances
Richard Powell, 98 17 12mo. 1896.
Grange, Co. Tyrone.
Moses Pullen, 77 27 12mo. 1896.
Adolphus Quertier, 47 10 12mo. 1896.
Sarah E. Ramsey, 26 29 6mo. 1897.
Grange, Co. Tyrone. Daughter of Thomas
Harriett Reckitt, 77 2 lmo. 1897.
Eliza Reynolds, 84 25 8mo. 1897.
Canterbury. Widow of Edmund Reynolds.
Harold C. Reynolds, 24 4 8mo. 1897.
Yokohama. Son of Fanny and the late Arthur
Reynolds of Bridport.
John F. Richardson, 31 22 5mo. 1897.
Overstone, near Northampton. Son of Henry
and Emma Richardson.
Jane Ann Robinson, 37 10 lOmo. 1896.
Thirsk. Wife of William B. Robinson.
Martin Robinson, 83 30 4mo. 1897.
Saddlescombe, near Brighton. An Elder.
Thomas Robson, 59 15 8mo. 1897.
Huddersfield. A Minister.
John Rorke, 72 22 4mo. 1897.
Lydia Rous, 77 15 12mo. 1896.
York. An Elder.
The cause of the higher education of women
in the Society of Friends sustained a serious loss
in the removal of this dear Friend, who had so
large a share in promoting the efforts which have
been recently so successfully made in this-
Lydia Rous was the daughter of William
and Mary Rous of Maidenhead, where she was-
born on the 24th of 5th month, 1819, the birth-
day of the Queen. She was one of a family of
two brothers and seven sisters, all of whom who*
attained to mature years, were engaged, during a
longer or shorter period of their lives, as teachers.
After four or five years at the Friends' School,
Croydon, she was for two years at the private-
school of Sarah and Maria Palmer, in that place ;
and she undertook her first engagement in the
year 1838, as a teacher in the family of Edward
White, of Aspley Guise, in Bedfordshire. She-
took the post of mistress of the Monitorial School
at Ackworth in 1844, afterwards having charge
of the senior class, and later being mistress on
duty. She left in the year 1849. During part
of this time, her sister Elizabeth (afterwards E.
Comstock) was one of her colleagues.
One of her earlier pupils speaks of her being
remembered "with so much esteem and rever-
ence," and adds, " I have not one recollection of
her but brings a tender feeling over me, from
the time I went a young child to Ackworth,
when she was head mistress of the school I was
in, to the time of leaving. I remember the
privilege it was considered to have 'a nice
preach from Lydia Rous,' — to be told to wait in
No. 2 when the others w^ent to bed, when dear
L. Eous would come, and with an arm i*ound the
erring one, talk so lovingly and tenderly, it took
but a few short minutes completely to subdue
the delinquent. Then the best of all was to be
.taken to bed, and to have the gentle, loving kiss,
the privilege prized by all."
Another pupil says, "I left Ackworth at the
same time she did, and had been in her class for
some time ; and I do feel a deep sense of
indebtedness to her. No one ever held a similar
place in my estimation. It was, I believe, largely
due to the high ideal she held up to us, and the
kind and loving, yet firm rule she exercised over
•us. I feel quite sure hers has been a life-long
influence in many cases."
In 1851 she again engaged in private tuition,
in the family of John Ellis, M.P., at Belgrave,
near Leicester. Here she remained till 1855,
when she removed to Darlington, undertaking
the literary training of the two daughters of John
and Sophia Pease at Eastmount. In 1856 she
paid her first visit to America, crossing with her
brother and sister, Frederick and Rebecca Rous,
who were then leaving the superintendency of
Wigton School, and were going to Canada to
join their two sisters, Elizabeth and Lucy Ann,,
who had preceded them in 1854.
From the year 1858 to 1863 she taught the-
children of John Bright, M.P., at One Ash,
Rochdale. She highly valued the opportunity
thus afforded of association with a man of such-
wonderful energy and true culture, and actuated
by such high motives in the important sphere he
filled in the service of his country. How her
labours were appreciated may be gathered from
the words of J ohn Bright in a letter on her leaviug,
dated 6mo. 26, 1863. He says : " I assure thee-
that I join with all my family in the sense of
loss which is common to us all on thy giving;
up the charge of our children's education..
They will have much reason always to remember
with gratitude thy conscientious labours on
their behalf ; and their dear mother and myself
will always regard it as a happy thing for them
and for us, that they have been able to be so long
under thy care." As she was then contemplat-
ing a second visit to America, John Bright adds r.
— I. hope thy voyage may be safe, and thy stay
in America in every way pleasant, and that
before thy return we may hear of the restora-
lion of peace and the triumph of freedom on
In the course of this visit, which took place
•during the American war, she was associated
with her sister, Elizabeth Comstock, in some of
the labours she undertook in visiting the military
hospitals and similar work, arising out of the
lamentable struggle going on between the North
and South. In these labours she heartily
sympathized, though her own special line of duty
lay in such a different direction.
On her return to this country in 1864, Lydia
Rous accepted the post of governess at the Friends'
School, Mountmellick, where she remained for
-about two years. It was in 1866 that she took
the appointment of Principal of the Mount
School, York, where she remained for thirteen
years. It was here that the special qualifications
which she possessed as a teacher were most
strikingly manifested. Although she never had
the advantage of anything approaching to a
•college training, her previous experience, and the
ever increasing store of information gathered up
during her life, were brought to bear in a con-
centrated form on this last of her engagements,
where her efforts were crowned with a success
which few of our educationists of recent years
have attained. Many now in younger or middle
life can bear witness to the extreme value of her
instructions and influence at the Mount School.
Her firm, yet truly kind rule, the high ideals
which she held up as regards the conduct of life,
and the enthusiasm in the pursuit of knowledge
which her own earnestness encouraged in her
pupils, are looked back upon with sincere and
loving appreciation. Her interest in those under
her charge did not cease with their leaving
school, and in many cases she still, by correspon-
dence and otherwise, exercised her valuable
influence, and gave wise counsel when untoward
or difficult circumstances arose.
Her religious teaching was not of a sensa-
tional character, but highly practical. She made
no attempts to work on the emotional feelings of
her pupils ; but while conducting the thorough
biblical instruction which she imparted, she kept
prominently in view the great end of the gift
of the Holy Scriptures, that they " are able to
make wise unto salvation through faith which is
in Christ Jesus"; and that, being " given by
inspiration of God, they are profitable for doctrine,,
for reproof, for correction, for instruction in
righteousness, that the man of God may be
perfect, thoroughly furnished unto all good
works." She would sometimes end a lesson to
Ihe whole school on the great truths unfolded in
the sacred page, with the words, 11 If ye know
these things, happy are ye if ye do them."
In the prospect of her retirement in 1879
from the position she held at the Mount, the
•Committee entered on their books the following
minute : —
" In looking to the approaching retirement of
our friend Lydia Kous from the superintendence
-of the Mount School, this Committee wishes to
record the high estimation it entertains of the
services rendered by her to the Institution, and
to the large number of pupils who have been
under her care, in the thirteen years of her
" During this time more than one hundred
young women have left the School to enter on
the profession of Teaching. The individual
influence exerted by Lydia Rous on the characters
of these, as well as on the ordinary scholars, in
promoting high literary culture, right habits and
Christian views of life and conduct, have, we
believe, been of signal service. We desire that
the divine blessing, which has attended our dear
friend in her active labours for the young, may
be largely continued to her in her retirement."
On quitting her post at the Mount, Lydia
Rous continued to live in York, and was thus
able still to be of service to the School in which
she had been so deeply interested, as she was
near at hand, and always ready to confer with
her successors whenever they felt the need of her
advice. Her interest in her old pupils remained,
and many of them gladly took the opportunity of
calling upon her whenever they revisited the old
She paid one more visit to America in 1886.
Her health continued fairly good till the spring
of 1895, when an attack of a paralytic character
very much prostrated her. It was accompanied
with a trying decrease of mental and physical
power, from which she never entirely rallied.
She tried a change of air and scene without much
result ; and finally took up her residence at
Darlington with her brother and sister. She was
able to see her friends when they called, and to
enjoy their company, while feeling somewhat
keenly the loss of her former powers.
The last seizure came on very suddenly on
the 15th of Twelfth month, 1896. There was no
special premonition of the attack ; she almost
immediately became unconscious, and in less than
three hours peacefully passed away, being spared,
it is believed, all physical suffering. The funeral
took place at Darlington on the 18th, when, not-
withstanding the inclemency of the weather,
several of her friends, especially those connected
with the Mount School, attended. Many tributes
were offered on this occasion to the great value
of the service she had been enabled to render to
so large a number of her younger sisters.
We subjoin a few extracts from the numerous
letters which have been received, showing the
appreciation of her work and character by old
pupils and others who knew and loved her.
Some beautiful flowers arrived, as a gift from
one of her first pupils, on the morning of the
day of her decease. She was able to enjoy them,
much to the satisfaction of the sender, who
writes : — " What a shock it was to me to know
that my oldest and much loved friend was no
more. It seems to me now as if I was separated
by a wide gulf from all the associations of
childhood ; for she was ever intimately connected
with all who were dear to me, and I can scarcely
realize that I can never see her dear face again.
It has been a pathetic satisfaction to me that she
looked on the flowers I had handled, on the very
day of her departure. How she loved flowers \"
" On how many young minds has her beautiful
and cultivated character left its impress ! how
many has she influenced for good ! "
An old pupil, writing for herself and her
brothers and sisters, says : —
" We are all keenly sensible how much we
owe to dear Lydia Rous, for all her care and
kindness to us as children ; and latterly I have
been made even more sensible of this, by read-
ing some of her letters written to my mother and
us, during her absences from home, — so kind, so
far-seeing and so wise. She will indeed be
missed and tenderly mourned by all her old
pupils, and by a large circle of friends."
An insight into her work at the Mount is
given in the following : —
" How greatly I honoured her ! I was at the
Mount for two years, and I count it a great
privilege to have been at the School when Lydia
Rous was Head Mistress. We did certainly stand
somewhat in awe of her ; but I was always
impressed, even as a school girl, with the pains
she took to develop the characters of the girls,
and to teach us to try to form a wise and
independent judgment in all things. I remember
how, on one occasion, a particularly conscientious
girl drew up a list of rules, and pinned it up on
the bedroom wall, for the guidance of the other
girls. We girls thought the idea an excellent
one, but were soon shown that there was a still
" Lydia Rous made it the subject of one of
her little Saturday evening addresses, and told
us that there were no rules ; that we we were
expected to do what was right, because it was
right, and not because there was a set of rules
which had to be obeyed. She always acted
upon the same principle, appealing to our own
sense of what was right and fitting, rather than
to any outside regulations by which we were
" Then she always invited the girls who
were leaving to spend an evening in her parlour
towards the close of the half-year. I shall never
forget how seriously she spoke to us, when it
came to my turn to join that party, on our duty
to the Society to which we belonged. She
warned us that we should probably have to face
difficult problems, and might feel unsettled in
our religious views ; but she advised us to think
very seriously before resigning our membership^
and not to take such a step in a hurry, whatever
" When I have found Friends taking strong
views on one side or another, her words have
many and many a time come to my mind, and
had a steadying influence."
Another writes : — " Personally I can never
put into words how much I feel to owe her.
Even apart from moral training, it was she who
taught me to care for poetry and the best books,
making me feel that such reading was a serious
part of life, and to be cared for as such ; and it
is to this that I owe what has been one of the
greatest interests and pleasures of my life. She
was always a most sympathetic friend and
Again, an old Mount scholar says : — u I re-
call with love and reverence how much she
was to us as dear friend and mistress ; and I
am sure that a large circle of old pupils will
say with me how much of good we owe to Lydia
" Her nobility of character and brilliant
mental endowments exercised a moral force that
was powerful enough to arrest the attention of
even thoughtless school girls ; and none of those
who shared the privilege of knowing her in-
timately, can ever forget her wise kindness and
the tenderness of her sympathy."
Another, who has since passed away,
wrote : — " For my own part I feel I have lost a
good and true friend ; for to her influence over me
when at school I owe all the good of my life ;
and we can truly say of her, 1 Well done, good
and faithful servant ; enter thou into the joy
of thy Lord.' "
Again we have one who as a child, and
afterwards at school, was much attached to
her : — " Next to my mother, I feel that I owe more
to Lydia Kous than to anyone, in the formation of
my character. She is entwined in the memories
of my childhood, added to which there is all her
beautiful, wise influence over me at the Mount —
a priceless blessing !
" How very beautiful that she had such a
quick and painless end, and that what she had
so dreaded, came as a bright angel after all ! "
An old scholar, who was afterwards a teacher
under her, says : — " She did so much for me in
every way. I feel that I owe the direction of
my life mainly to her, and that she strengthened
and stimulated me at the time when I most
Another old pupil writes : — " I think her
name is one of the very first I can remember ;
when I was a tiny girl in the nursery, my
big cousins used to tell me of their great
doings at the Mount, and of Lydia Kous and
LYDIA ROUS. 109
her sayings ; and my highest ambition was
to grow big enough to climb to such far away
heights. I should think very few women in our
Society had a wider or nobler influence, though
perhaps it was not as often talked of as the
careers of those whose work in philanthropy or
preaching was by its nature more prominent."
The following gives a beautiful insight into
the true religious feeling which underlay all her
labours for the good of her pupils : —
" How many tender memories come back to
one ! How well I remember a talk in her bed-
room, just before I left school, when she was
trying to cheer me up (I having a lower place
than I had hoped), and how she said, I have not
been one who talked much to you on religious
subjects, but I think you all know how earnestly
I desire that my pupils may be followers of
Jesus. And I can never forget, when the part-
ing came, how sad I felt. And how I remember
the tender, motherly pressure of her arms, as she
whispered, ' Farewell, my precious child ! God
bless thee, my darling. 7 For her we cannot
mourn, believing that an entrance has been ad-
ministered abundantly into the kingdom of our
Lord and Saviour ; but we mourn that we shall
see her here no more."
Jane Rowntree, 72 8 3mo. 1897.
Headingley, formerly of Scarborough.
Edith Rugg, 50 12 5mo. 1897.
Newport, Isle of Wight.
Richard Rushmer, 79 19 2mo. 1897.
Thomas Rushworth, 69 26 12mo. 1896.
Elizabeth Russell, 90 23 2mo. 1897.
Lucy M. Russell, 39 2 lmo. 1897.
York. Wife of J. R. Russell.
Sophia E. Sams, 73 8 2mo. 1897.
Weston-super-Mare. An Elder. Widow of
Sophia E. Sams, widow of Joseph Sams, of
Thornbury, Gloucestershire, was the youngest
daughter of the late Joseph Sams, of Darlington.
She was born in 1823. Her father is described
in the recently published fiftieth volume of the
"Dictionary of National Biography," as "an
Orientalist," concerning whom considerable
interest remains from his collections of Egyptian
curiosities ; the British Museum and other
collections having been enriched by them.
Her mother was Mary Brady, of Doncaster,
daughter of James and Sarah Brady, described
SOPHIA E. SAMS.
by those who remembered her as one of the " sweet
and lovely of the earth."
The long row of gravestones in the Friends'
burial ground at Darlington show how, within a
period of two years, four sisters, just blossoming
into womanhood, and one young brother of the
subject of this memoir, were one after another
removed by death through rapid decline. Of
these, Sophia E. Sams and her younger brother
Frederic were the only survivors, he also
succumbing to the same complaint a few years
Their mother followed her five children, in
decline, when Sophia was ten years old. She
remembered herself as a child of somewhat
mature thought at that age, having been her
mother's companion during her often repeated
trials from the deaths in the family, and during
her own failing health. She also well remem-
bered the brightness and happiness of their home
during the lives of these sweet sisters, even
during the long travels of her father, whose
absence was always keenly felt.
Many of their letters, still preserved, show
how united was the love among the family group,
and give some bright allusions to the social life
amongst Friends of Darlington nearly seventy
years ago. Esther, the eldest of Sophia Sams's
sisters, who died at twenty-one, seems to have
been peculiarly lovely, both in person and char-
acter. A piece of her bright golden hair still
remains, put away amongst others, and labelled
by their sorrowing mother as " precious relics of
lost treasures." Esther herself writes in touch-
ing terms of the deaths of her two sisters
next in age, Hannah and Mary Sarah, who
preceded her to the grave, both having given
a good testimony by their lives, and the former
clearly expressing her faith at her departure,
that all was well. Of Lucy, the youngest of the
four, who passed away in 1832, in her seven-
teenth year, a short account was sent to the
Annual Monitor for that year by a Friend of
Darlington ; and in 1837 their mother, Mary Sams,
fell asleep in Jesus.
Sophia was thus early bereft of her mother
and of all her sisters ; but she formed helpful
f renclships, which were life-long, during the years
that Darlington continued to be her home. At
the age of twenty-three she married her cousin,
Joseph Sams, then Manager of a branch bank
at Somerton. A few years later, however, they
removed to Thornbury, Gloucestershire, when
Joseph Sams entered into a partnership in the
SOPHIA E. SAMS.
Bank in that town. The happy life there, how-
ever, came to an end seven years later, when, in
1862, the beloved husband and father was
removed by death.
The words " As thy day thy strength shall
be " were, in the experience of Sophia E. Sams
(as those who knew her will acknowledge)
Her last home, at Weston-super-Mare, is
hallowed to many by sweet memories of the dear
departed. " When He hath tried me, I shall come
forth as gold," was indeed true of her. She is
remembered in her early married years, as
unusually bright, charming and attractive, and
the cheerful and hopeful temperament, natural
to her, wonderfully supported her through trial ;
but in her latter days, when surrounded by
blessing and peace, and the love of many dear
friends, her character having deepened through
the various dispensations of her life, her loving
gentleness and sympathy, combined with a sound
judgment, made her, not unfrequently, a helper
and counsellor of others, and she was much
valued in her capacity of Elder in the Meeting
to which she belonged.
The brightness and buoyancy which had
characterized her life continued to its close. Ia
the midst of the peaceful happiness which
encircled the home at Weston she was almost
suddenly removed, after nine days of influenza and
pleuro-pneumonia. Although greatly surprised
herself, when it was found that her illness was
likely to end fatally, she beautifully and calmly
yielded her wish to recover ; and the sweetness of
her smiles of love before her departure can never
be forgotten by those who witnessed them.
She had never given much expression to
religious feeling in word ; but her face has several
times been described as " one which carried
Heaven in it" ; and this, as well as her example,
spoke the peace within. Just before her depar-
ture, when lying perfectly still, she again opened
her eyes, and with a never to be forgotten look,
stretched out her hand towards her beloved
daughter, exclaiming "up! up!" an emphatic and
last assurance to the one whom she was leaving
behind, that her spirit was already on the wing ;
after which she quietly breathed her last.
Jane Satterthwaite, 76 10 6mo. 1897.
Everard H. Sawer 56 26 12mo. 1896.
Elizabeth A. Scarles 52 25 4mo. 1897.
Mary H. Sewell 19 22 llmo. 1896.
Colchester. Daughter of Jesse and Sarah
Hannah Shannon, 73 30 3mo. 1897.
Isaac Sharp, 91 21 3mo. 1897.
Ettington. A Minister.
Isaac Sharp was born at Brighton, on the
4th of 7th month, 1806. It was a year memor-
able in English annals ; the year after the battle
of Trafalgar ; the year that Pitt and Fox died ;
the year that Napoleon vanquished Prussia at
Jena, and launched the Berlin decrees against
the commerce of England. The power of the
Corsican despot was then at its zenith ; the issue
of the great struggle, and with it the fate of
our country, seemed still trembling in the
balance. It was nine years before the battle of
Waterloo ; twenty-six years before the passing
of the first Reform Bill ; twenty-four before the
first railway ; penny postage, electric telegraphs,
and telephones were things undreamed of, being
yet in the remote future. Isaac Sharp remem-
bered, as a child of four years old, seeing an ox
roasted in the open air at Brighton on the occas-
ion of the jubilee of George III. in 1810 ; he
was present at the jubilee of his grand-daughter
Victoria in 1887 ; and he died just three months
before the commemoration of the sixtieth year of
her reign. We recall these facts because they
help us to realize the wonderful vitality, the
broad humanitarianisrn, the rare adaptability
which enabled a man, whose early life was
passed in surroundings so different from ours r
still to maintain an active interest in our busy,
restless age of discovery and speculation, and to
keep in sympathetic touch with a generation so
unlike his own.
Isaac Sharp was the son of Isaac and Mary
Sharp. He was the eldest of fourteen children,
only two of whom survive him. His father was
engaged in business in Brighton ; and to his
early association with the sea-shore may be attri-
buted that intense love of the sea which
characterized him. To the last year of his life it
was his delight to wander over the breezy Downs
of his native Sussex. His mother's maiden
name was Likeman. She died while he was yet
young ; but her memory was cherished by him,
and the day of her death was one of his memorial
days throughout his long life. When he reached
the age of eleven years he was sent to a boarding
school at Earls' Colne in Essex, conducted by
William Impey. The standard of education
in those days was not high, and boys intended
for a business career commonly left school at the
age of fourteen. At that age, accordingly, Isaac
Sharp was apprenticed to Day and Eobson of
Saffron Walden. During his stay in Essex,
whether as schoolboy or apprentice, he contracted
friendships which were destined to endure and
yield him much pleasure in after life. In the
year 1830 he removed to Darlington at the
invitation of Joseph Pease, to whom he subse-
quently acted as private secretary. At the
election of 1832, Joseph Pease was returned as
Member of Parliament, being the first Friend to
enter the House of Commons. In many of his
enterprises, then in their early stages, Isaac
Sharp assisted him, and usually accompanied
him to meetings which he held in the neighbour-
hood. Subsequently he rilled the responsible
position of manager of the Peases' Middlesborough
estate, where, owing to the discovery of iron ore
in the Cleveland Hills, a single farmhouse grew
into a town of 70,000 inhabitants. The rapid
development of the place necessitated his resi-
dence on the spot, and he removed thither in
In the year 1839, Isaac Sharp married
Hannah Procter of North Shields, and shared
with her three short years of happy wedded life.
She died in 1842, leaving him with two little
motherless girls to care for, the youngest just
five months old. The sense of this bereavement
never left him ; and to the last the anniversary
of his wife's death was noted and tenderly re-
Some time after his removal to Middles-
borough he passed through a serious illness, which
nearly proved fatal. Late in life he sustained
serious financial losses, and his position as to
outward prosperity was thereby altered for the
residue of his days. But this, as well as all
other trials, which in his case were neither few
nor insignificant, he accepted with cheerfulness
and resignation, as dispensations from the good
hand of an all-loving Father.
From very early life Isaac Sharp had been
subject to serious impressions, which deepened
as the years advanced. " Under the powerful
visitation. of Divine grace, in the abounding love
of God in Jesus Christ," he writes, "the Lord
was graciously pleased to accept the surrender of
my young heart to Him ; and in perfect peace a
willingness was mercifully wrought in me to love
and serve my Kedeemer, as He might be pleased
to lead the way." In the year 1842, he was
recorded a Minister by Darlington Monthly
Meeting. With respect to this he wrote quite
recently, " Ten years passed over me from the
day when my mouth was first opened in the
ministry to the day when the gift was recorded
by the Church ; and even then I was somewhat
taken by surprise." Isaac Sharp's ministry was
not remarkable for eloquence, learning, or profound
thought. His addresses had the natural defects
of most extempore discourses — diffuseness and
lack of arrangement. But they were accompanied
by a weight, solemnhy, and earnestness of con-
viction which impressed his hearers, and were
clothed with a quaint poetic diction which was
attractive to many. He lived very near to the
Master, the true source of power, and hence the
influence of his words upon his fellow men.
Through life he had a profound belief in an
over-ruling Providence, and in the Divine guid-
ance vouchsafed to man. It was a common
saying of his, which he was never tired of
repeating, " They who mark the hand of
Providence, will never want a Providence to
mark." A few months before his death it was
remarked to him that his friends felt very anxious
on his account while attending a funeral in very
inclement weather ; he replied, " All through life,
when I have felt it right for me to do a thing, I
have done it regardless of the consequences ; and
I have never had reason to regret it."
In the year 1846 began that long series of
labours and journeyings in foreign lands, which
only ended with his life. His first such service
was in Norway, when, under a sense of
religious duty, he had an interview with the
King, and travelled to the extreme north of the
country. Next year, in company with Barnard
Dickinson, he visited the Orkney and Shetland
In 1861 he started on a mission to Iceland,
accompanind by Asbjorn Kloster, a Friend from
Norway. This service had long rested on his
mind. No member of the Society of Friends
had previously visited the island in a religious
capacity, and no creed but the Lutheran was
tolerated within its bounds. Fortunately the
executive committee of the Bible Society was
then sitting in London, and it appointed Isaac
Sharp as its delegate to Iceland. With this
introduction he gained admittance to the Bishop
of the island, and obtained permission to hold
meetings with the inhabitants. The first meeting
was held in a hotel ; the large room was crowded,,
and the two Friends had considerable service.
At the close of the meeting much satisfaction
was expressed, and such remarks as these were
heard amongst the people : " This is what we
want." "We never heard the like before."
u This is quite new." " Oh ! that you could speak
to the people in Icelandic ! " Isaac Sharp adds,.
" Precious and deep was the calm upon our spirits,
and in the brightness of the northern clime it
was near twelve before we were inclined to retire
for the night." From Eeikjavik the travellers
set out to visit the remote villages and stations
round the island. The journey was one involving
much fatigue, and not without peril. In after
years Isaac Sharp was wont to describe Iceland
as a country of negatives. " No dissent, no army,
no navy, no prisons, no roads, no inns, no
carriages, no trees, no poultry, no snakes." The
only mode of travel was on horseback, with
pack-horses for. baggage. The travellers some-
times went for two days without seeing a house ;
sometimes they slept in a barn or a church,
sometimes in their tent pitched upon damp
ground, it might be after thirteen hours in the
saddle without stopping for food or rest ; and
occasionally the meal was scant, and no means
of drying their wet clothes at hand. Danger
was often added to fatigue and discomfort ;
eiorasses had to be crossed ; and rivers, perilous
from quicksands and sudden floods, forded.
Once when the travellers arrived at a river which
was found to be impassable, they were obliged
to make a circuit, under the direction of their
guides, and cross the glacier from which the
stream issued, with much toil and delay, and no
•slight risk to themselves and their baggage
animals. But through all they preserved a cheer-
ful and thankful spirit, and Isaac Sharp enjoyed
the pure atmosphere, and the wild and beautiful
scenery by which they were surrounded. " Thus
are we watched over and mercifully cared for
from day to da}'," is his comment on the journey.
The next year, 1862, with a companion, he visited
the Faroe islands. This, too, was an undertaking
not without risk ; for the passage in small boats
from one to another of the eight or nine islands
composing the group was liable to sudden storms,
and landing was difficult and dangerous owing to
the Atlantic swell. It sometimes happened that
persons who had come to an island for a brief
call were detained for weeks by the exigencies
•of the weather. Yet the service of our friends
was accomplished without harm or loss, and to
their own peace and satisfaction. The following
year Isaac Sharp was again in Iceland, to complete
the work which he had left unfinished two years-
In 1864 he visited the Moravian Mission
stations in Greenland, in company with Harrison
Penney. His visit was helpful and encouraging,
and was long remembered as a cheer by those
devoted men, who, cut off from home and
civilization, save for a brief visit of a missionary
vessel once a year, in the region of eternal frost,,
laboured amid much discouragement for the
spiritual and temporal well-being of a race-
exceptionally low in the scale of intelligence..
His long-felt interest in their work was deepened
by this journey, and continued to the end of his-
life. With a like object in view he went to
Labrador in the summer of the next year. These
two voyages were undertaken in sailing vessels,,
and the passages to and fro occupied so many
months, that only a few weeks remained for his.
visits to the mission stations.
In 1869 he re- visited Norway, and again in
1873. It was during this latter visit that he-
contracted an illness of most dangerous character.
As soon as practicable, and while his condition
was yet critical, he was conveyed home from
Stavanger, to be nursed in the house of his
brother-in-law, John Dunning. His physicians-
and friends entertained but little hope of his
recovery ; yet he persisted in the belief that
u his sickness was not unto death," as he clearly
saw before him the larger service that he felt
would be required at his hands.
Scarcely had he recovered, when he set out
to attend the General Meeting of Friends at
Glasgow, and to visit other parts of Scotland.
The years 1875 and 1876 were partly spent in
Norway and Denmark, and in visits to Friends
at Minden, and in the south of France.
At length, in the year 1877, when he was in
his seventy -first year, he brought before his
Monthly Meeting the prospect of the largest
service he ever undertook, and asked for a certifi-
cate liberating him to visit South Africa,
Madagascar, Australia, Tasmania, New Zealand,
•California, and other parts of the continent of
North America. After some very natural hesita-
tion his friends granted him the desired minute ;
and he set out for Cape Town in company with
Langley Kitching and Theodore Harris. On
their arrival the three Friends were received
with much kindness, and held several meetings
for the public in the chapels of various denomina-
tions. Having completed their service in Cape
Oolony, Isaac Sharp, with Langley Kitching
only, entered upon a long- course of travel
in the interior of South Africa, chiefly with a
view to visiting the widely scattered mission
stations. Across the roadless, treeless, and 1
often waterless veldt they journeyed, in
lumbering vehicles drawn by teams of oxen,
from station to station, cheering the hearts of
lonely workers in the solitary wild. The Zulu
war was then impending, and all South Africa
was seething with unrest. Murder was in the
air ; and on one occasion it came very near to the
travellers ; for a kindly family who had
hospitably entertained them on the road, a few
days later fell victims to the treachery of the
natives. When in Basutoland, Isaac Sharp was
preaching one day in a church ; a storm
came on ; a flash of lightning entered the-
building, and passing over his head, killed the-
infant daughter of a missionary in a pew close-
by. Our two friends reached the remote station,
of Kuruman, once the scene of the labours of
Moffat and Livingstone ; and from thence, being
warned by the courtesy of Colonel Lanyon, the
administrator of Griqua Land West, that the-
direct route was not safe, they returned soutli
through the Transvaal. In a letter written from
South Africa, Isaac Sharp says, " Not a few inv
this land look upon it as a remarkably bold thing
at my time of life to enter on such a journey,
and marvel at the ability readily to cope with it.
My own feeling is, without wavering, that the
hand of the Lord is in it." And again : — "They
■-sometimes smile and say that I am proud, and
will not submit to put on the old man. Then
•comes another smile, as I agree to the verdict,
and add, 'Yes ; and but for a spice of this you
would not have seen me in Africa.'"
From South Africa Isaac Sharp sailed to
Madagascar. There his companion Langley
Kitching left him and returned to England. He
remained more than a year in the island, residing
part of the time with the missionaries at
Antananarivo, but making frequent excursions
into other parts of the country. His arrival in
the capital was most opportune. Difficulties had
arisen among the missionaries of the various
denominations, which might have seriously
affected the future of mission work in the island.
Coming in as a stranger, and apparently unconscious
of the circumstances, Isaac Sharp, by the spirit
he infused into all around him, was enabled to
assuage these difficulties and tone down asperi-
ties ; and when he departed he left a more
hopeful state of affairs behind him. Such was
the testimony, in after years, of one who was a
missionary in the island at the time, and who
spoke from personal experience of the wonderful
influence and helpful cheer exercised by Isaac
Sharp's presence. When, in 1890, the same
missionary, then residing in England, was
informed that Isaac Sharp was again contem-
plating further arduous and protracted service,
but that many of his friends doubted the wisdom
of sanctioning it at his advanced age, he
remarked, "If Mr. Sharp says so, I have not a
shadow of doubt that he is called to the work ;
and I am sure he will be enabled to perform it."
A remarkable incident, which strikingly illus-
trates the influence of his presence and demeanour,
occurred while he was travelling in a region
where the savage tribes were not amenable to
the Hova government. He had been warned
against attempting this journey, and told that his
life would be in danger. But he had heard the
•call to go, and he went " regardless of the con-
sequences." One day, during a halt, while the
meal was being prepared, he was sitting alone
and apart from his company. Suddenly he
became aware that natives were stealthily
approaching, and that weapons were being
directed against his party from various quarters.
Calm and ready for whatever might follow, he
remained quite still, but taking care to let it be
seen that he was unarmed. Emboldened by this
the savages ventured out from their concealment.
Then he looked up and smiled upon them with that
wonderfully attractive smile of his. The savages
were conquered ; they lowered their weapons ;
came forward, and entered into conversation
with the travellers. After brief explanation of
their purpose, the latter were permitted to
pass unmolested by the fierce barbarians who
had come intent only on slaughter and plunder.
When the time for leaving Madagascar was
come, considerable difficulty was experienced in
finding a passage. After waiting in vain expec-
tation of the arrival of a passenger steamer, Isaac
Sharp sailed in a small cargo vessel bound for
Bourbon. There was no suitable accommodation
for passengers on board ; the vessel carried a cargo
of geese and hogs, — hogs in the hold, geese on
deck. The misery of that voyage may be
imagined. At Bourbon he met with a steamer
bound for Mauritius ; and thence he took
ship for Australia. On reaching Melbourne he
was met by Joseph J. Neave, who subsequently
became his " faithful companion and fellow
labourer for nearly two years in Australia,
Tasmania and New Zealand." Together they
visited the meetings of Friends, and sought out
isolated members in those regions.
Setting out once more alone, he crossed six
thousand miles of sea, and after a voyage of
twenty-three days landed in San Francisco. Then,
to quote his own words, " All the Yearly Meetings
on the American continent were visited, and
several of our educational establishments. Our
friend Joel Bean and I travelled together in
much harmony for five months." From the
United States Isaac Sharp went to Mexico, and
visited the Friends' Mission established there in
the midst of a Roman Catholic population. The
fatigues and discomforts of this journey were
not the least of those he so often encountered —
travelling with a wagon over roads very deep in
mud, sleeping in the open at night, sometimes
with the snow falling on his face, exposed at
times to " perils of robbers," when the Mexican
bandits were prowling in the neighbourhood, so
that the travellers feared to light a lire lest they
should attract their notice.
Towards the end of Third month, after an
absence of nearly seven years, Isaac Sharp re-
turned to England. But such was his zeal for
service, and so little was he exhausted by his long
travel, that in Seventh month of the same year
he was again in Norway.
Not long after this his now widowed sister r
with whom he had long made his home, removed
to Broadstairs in Kent. He removed with her,
but still retained his membership in Darlington
Monthly Meeting. In the year 1887 his sister
died, and he was obliged to find a new home in
his old age. He had many offers from relatives
and others, but finally accepted the invitation of
some kind friends to take up his abode in a house
which they provided for him at Ettington near
Stratford-on-Avon, where resided his only sur-
In the year 1890, at the age of eighty-four,,
to the astonishment of all his friends, he laid
before his Monthly Meeting a project to visit
meetings and mission stations in France, Syria,.
Constantinople, India, Japan, and the American
continent. Grave doubts as to the expediency of
granting him a minute at first prevailed ; but
here, as afterwards at the Yearly Meeting in
London, when he came to state his case, his
earnestness and deep conviction put all opposi-
tion aside, and he was cordially liberated for the
work. But ere he entered upon its performance
his faith was still to be sorely tried. When he
was about to start for France a severe illness
confined him to a London hotel for a whole
month. Those who had previously questioned
the wisdom of his undertaking so extensive a
mission now seemed justified in their forebodings.
But his own faith never faltered, and he wrote : —
u A beacon light is still burning on the coast of
France, bright in mental vision, with no cloud to
obscure it. I saw it as I lay prostrate, and see it
still, burning with radiant brightness, fed with
oil from the rock by night and by day. Faith
has never been permitted to fail me, and I still
look forward in hope, with joyful expectancy,
enabled with quiet confidence to go forth and
leave the issue, whatever the issue may be, without
anxious thought." Yet one more trial of faith
awaited him. He left England after his
recovery, in excellent health and spirits, and
arrived in Paris. Here, through slipping on the
waxed floor of his bedroom, he fell, and sus-
tained serious injury. He lay for a time in a
condition of great suffering, through which he
was most kindly cared for and tended by his
friends, Joseph R. and Mariana Pirn. When
sufficiently recovered to be removed, his physi-
cians pronounced him unfit to travel further,
and he returned to England early in 1891,
" there to watch and wait for the further un-
folding of Heavenly counsel." Before the end
of the year he again set out on his travels, this
time for Philippopolis and Constantinople. In
the latter city, after some delay, he was joined
by Dr. Dixon, who was unexpectedly liberated to
accompany him. Quarantine regulations, due to
an outbreak of cholera, obliged him to pass by
Syria at this time, and he proceeded direct to
India. In the Red Sea he had another attack
of illness, but by the time he reached
India he was able to travel, and visited the
mission stations of Friends in that great de-
pendency. Then he passed, by way of Japan,
to San Francisco in California, and arrived at the
house of his daughter, Elizabeth H. Shelley, at
San Jose. There he parted with his companion,
Dr. Dixon, who returned to England. After a
brief rest, he went to Oregon in company with
Joel Bean. While travelling there he was seized
with alarming illness, and had barely strength
to regain the shelter of his daughter's home,
where he lay for weeks at the gates of death.
During this illness a strong impression rested
on his mind that he must return across the
Pacific and visit China, before further prosecuting
his work in America ; and though his physicians
gave no hope of his recovery, he asserted his
conviction that he would be raised up to perform
the work which he saw awaiting him. And so
the event proved. His friends in London felt
that they could not take the responsibility of
sanctioning his proposal, and advised his first
completing his work on the American continent.
But he insisted that now was the time for his
mission to China, and if that were set aside, the
way was closed for further labour. Acting
therefore on his own responsibility, and trusting
in Divine support and guidance, he set sail alone
for Japan. Thence he passed to China, made the
long voyage up the Yangtse-Kiang, and escaping
the dangers of the rapids, arrived safely at
Chung-King. There he was cordially welcomed,
not only by the community of the Friends'
Mission, but by missionaries of other denomina-
tions ; and his visit seems to have been opportune,
like his arrival at Antananarivo some years
before. " Incredulity," he wrote at this time, " is
ready to whisper 'and this at eighty-six ! ' What
matter ? I go with my life in my hand (not the
first time). The Lord Jesus, I have faith to
believe, will care for me whatever be the issue.
'Joseph gave commandment concerning his
bones.' I have none to give, for I do not
anticipate their being laid away in China."
Returning from China to San Jose, he
resumed his work in America. He travelled in
Southern California and Mexico, and visited
various Yearly Meetings of Friends in the United
rStates. Finally, in 1894, he sailed from New-
York in time to attend the Yearly Meeting in
London, where he returned his certificate, but
obtained permission to complete those portions
-of his work which were still unaccomplished.
The Autumn of the same year found him in the
£>outh of France ; and in the Ninth month of
the following year he departed for Syria to
.complete the last item of the remarkable pro-
gramme. After a brief tarriance among the
Friends' Mission Stations, and visits to Jerusalem
and Hebron, he came back to England for the
last time. Forty-five times his friends of
Darlington Monthly Meeting had granted him
certificates for service and travel. The long
labours had now come to an end as he reached
his home at Ettington on the 28th of the Twelfth
He was cheerful and full of thankfulness
for the accomplishment of his mission, and
seemed to be preparing for a more settled sojourn
among his home surroundings. To him to live
and not to serve was impossible ; but it was
a relief no longer to anticipate great and arduous
undertakings. Failing eye-sight and attacks of
illness incident to advancing age warned him of
the coming end ; but neither he nor those about
him imagined that it was so near at hand.
During the last year of his life the loss of many
beloved friends and relatives deeply touched his
sympathetic nature ; but his buoyant disposition,
added to his profound faith, enabled him to
surmount these last trials.
On the 28th of Twelfth month, 1896, he deliv-
ered an address on " Incidents of Travel " to a
large company of Friends in Devonshire House,.
London. Notwithstanding his ninety years, he
spoke with vigour, and was heard with sustained
interest for over an hour. He remained a week in
London ; and, the weather being inclement, he
caught a chill, which hastened his return home on
the 8th of First month. At first it was believed
that he was only suffering from the effect of cold ;
but it soon became evident that more serious mis-
chief was at work. Still he hoped to be restored^
and looked forward to meeting his friends in the
north of England in Fourth month. But this was
not to be. Paroxysms of excruciating pain came
on, and their return grew more frequent as the
weeks progressed ; till finally peritonitis super-
vened and left no longer any room for hope or
•doubt. Yet in the midst of suffering, and
notwithstanding the depressing nature of his
complaint, he bore up with unalterable patience,
and, at times, even with cheerfulness. He was
grateful for all that was done for him, and very
considerate to those about him. When his
doctor intimated that his release from suffering
was at hand, he meekly answered, u In His own
good time, — blessed be His holy name ! " A
short time before his death he requested that his
nephew might take down his words ere speech
completely failed him ; and then, though with
much difficulty, he spoke thus : — " This is my
death-bed testimony. I have a living sense that
it is best to live in the love and power of God,
that we may be complete in Him in Whom alone
we can be complete, — blessed be His holy name !
'To me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. Death
is swallowed up in victory."
Two days before the end, when utterance
■was almost gone, as his doctor stood by his bed-
side, he regarded him with a beautiful smile, and
raising his eyes he waved his right hand upward
three times, as though he were indicating the
iheavenly vista that was opening upon his spiritual
.sight ; and then whispered the words, " Glory,
glory, glory ! " The last night of his life he was-
apparently unconscious ; and at noon, on the 21st
of Third month, surrounded by loving friends*
and relatives, he quietly passed to " the rest
that remaineth for the people of God."
John Sharp, 52 30 lOmo. 1896,
Martha M. Sharp, 92 27 9mo. 1897,
Ettington. Wife of Thompson Sharp.
Janet E. Shaw, 23 26 7mo. 1897,
Sarah Shephard, 80 30 3mo. 1897,
Holloioay. Widow of George Shephard.
Caroline Shipley, 74 10 12mo. 1896,
Priscilla Shrive, 65 21 12mo. 1896.
Wellingborough. Wife of William Shrive.
Henry Sidney, 76 21 lmo. 1897.
Mary Ann Simpson, 36 21 6mo. 1897.
Bridlington. Wife of Frederic Simpson.
Bartholomew Smith, 82 28 lmo. 1897.
Weston-super-Mare. A Minister.
Bartholomew Smith was the youngest of
the ten children of John and Elizabath Harris
Smith of Thirsk, and was born in 1814. It was
in after years a matter of regret to him that he
had not, like the rest of the family, the advantage
of an education in some of the Friends' Schools,
but was sent to a school of repute in the neigh-
bourhood, where the discipline was ineffective,
-and the "education" meagre, Perhaps the
master had to deal with an inattentive scholar.
At thirteen he left school, and entered his
father's business. He had not much time for
self -culture, as the shop opened at six, and did
not close till nine or later, which circumstance
led to a habit of early rising, which continued to
the end of his life. In the summer he went out
to fish at dawn, until the objection of his mother
•overcame his natural love of "sport," and he gave
When he was about fifteen a friend of the
family noticed his aptitude in using his pencil,
and kindly gave him a box of paints with a little
encouraging advice. This was the foundation of
his lifelong pursuit of painting. His industry in
this occupation was very remarkable, and it was
for many years the absorbing employment of his
leisure, and he achieved in it considerable
When he was about eighteen he came to see
the evil of the use of alcoholic drinks, and
before he had heard of total abstinence he became
a total abstainer, with (so far as appears) no
encouragement from his family.
The temperance question from this time was
increasingly a subject of intense interest to him,
and in this cause he worked with unremitting
He was a fearless, earnest, and convincing
speaker, as appeared by the fact that many joined
the Temperance Society at the meetings he held
in the country. He knew personally, and
constantly visited those of his fellow-townsmen
who were addicted to drinking. His mission to
the poor did not stop here. Wherever he knew
of cases of want or sickness, his personal aid was
forthcoming, and he was successful in the
treatment of many of the latter by hydropathic
methods. To any who knew Bartholomew Smith
it will not appear surprising that his sympathy
was not unfrequently expended on those who
were unworthy of it.
In his twenty-sixth year he was married to
Isabel Oddie, of Warrington, and this union was
one of uninterrupted happiness till after the
" Golden Wedding " day, when his dear wife,
who had before this shown signs of failing health,
became a permanent invalid until she died, four
years before himself.
The great simplicity of B. Smith's character
was shown in his sympathy with children, whom
he had a happy faculty for amusing, and by
whom he was greatly beloved.
B. Smith did not feel that he had received
much help from his regular attendance, from his
earliest childhood, of the Friends' Meeting at
Thirsk, which was almost always during his
earlier life held in silence. It seems as if at the
mature age of forty-five, the first interpretation
of his religious feelings came through the
reading of a little book written by Professor
John Kirk, of Edinburgh — " The way of Life
made plain." He received its teaching as
though the message of the gospel had never
come to him before. But after this he was
ready to talk to everyone of his faith, and he
endeavoured most earnestly to bring them to the
same experience. From this time he often
accepted invitations " to take a service " in Non-
conformist chapels ; and he joined with the
Vicar of the parish in holding services in a
cottage mission-room, which he fitted up for the
purpose. He was for many years inclined to
believe in the so-called " sacraments " as they
are accepted by other Christian bodies, and joined
in the taking of the bread and (unfermented)
wine with some of his fellow-believers, simply
as acknowledging and commemorating their
allegiance to the Lord Jesus. He was always in
full unity with Friends in their plea for simplicity
of dress and personal habits, and he came in
later life to believe that their practice in these
and other respects is, on the whole, more in
accordance with their profession than that of
some others. Daring the last ten years of his
iife, when he had removed to Weston-super-
Mare, he enjoyed the meetings of Friends very
much, and, partly no doubt influenced by his
new environment, increasingly valued the views
of truth as held by the Society. He had long
believed it right for him to take a vocal part in
meetings, and his simple statement of the truths
of the Gospel, and his prayers (like one speaking
to a well-tried friend) are much missed in the
meeting at Weston. In the year 1888 he was
acknowledged as a Minister.
During the last few months of his life
B. Smith's thoughts were much turned to the
u Land beyond the River " ; and both in meeting
and in his household he loved to speak of the
glories of the " Better Land,' 1 to which he felt
himself to be hastening, and where he looked
forward to meeting his beloved partner. But
thoughts of the future did not abate his interest
in the world around him, and his labours for the
poor, the drunkard, and the oppressed, and for the
well-being of the lower animals, were unremitting
as long as he had the necessary strength. One
of his last efforts was to endeavour to unite the
various Temperance Societies in the town into a
Federation ; this has since been accomplished.
His eyesight though much impaired, did not
prevent him from using his brush and pencil,,
and up to the last most of his relations and many
of his friends received on their birthdays a little
drawing or painting as a memento of the
His last illness was only of seven da}^s-
duration. It was attended by great difficulty of
breathing, and much seeming unconsciousness :
but in the evening before the last, a sudden
access of energy seemed to come, and he enquired
for each of his children and grandchildren who
were in the house, and when " Are they all here ?''
was answered affirmatively, he said he had a
great desire that all his family may meet in
heaven before the throne, by faith in Jesus, and
by listening carefull}- and attending to the voice
of the Spirit of Christ j not only in great things,
but in the " minutest 1 ' things we must "listen
and attend." " I have felt for some months,'' he
said, " much more careful to live in prayer, and
to attend in everything to the guidance of the
Spirit of Jesus. I want that you all should do
right and live a life so pure and so attentive that
we may all meet as a family in heaven. . .
There are temptations on the right and on the
left, — the temptations of pride in our own doings,
of the cares of business, and being too much
engrossed by it, and of ' very wicked things.' "
He desired that all his children and grandchildren
may be kept from " the things of the world," and
that <£ all my posterity may come to the light of
Christ." He said that he desired all this also for
" our little Meeting," and that the right thing
may be said and done, and the Divine guidance
B. Smith passed quietly away on the evening
of Fifth-day, First month 28th ; he was uncon-
scious during the preceding night and day. The
funeral took place on the following Second-day,
in the cemetery at Weston-super-Mare.
Of B. Smith it may truly be said that he
always acknowledged that it was by the grace of
God in Jesus Christ that he was what he was ;
and the same Divine power enabled him not only
to serve his Master, but also to overcome to a
remarkable degree, those natural dispositions,
which, uncontrolled, would have hindered his
growth in grace.
This sketch may fittingly conclude with the
verse which was placed on the memorial card: —
" More life ! the life of heaven !
A perfect liberty to do Thy will ;
Receiving all from Thee, and giving still,
Freely as Thou hast given."
Elizabeth Smith, 56 10 lmo. 1897.
Frederic Smith, 70 2 4mo. 1897.
Georgiana P. Smith, 37 13 2mo. 1897.
Stockport. Wife of Joseph H. Smith.
Hannah Smith, 91 16 2mo. 1897.
Great A yton. An Elder.
Joseph Smith, 77 24 12mo. 1896.
Stepney. The compiler of the well-known
Catalogue of Friends' Books and Writings.
Martha Smith, 62 27 lOmo. 1896.
Martha Smith was one who through many
difficulties and trials was, as we cannot doubt,
enabled to obtain the victory through her Lord
and Saviour Jesus Christ ; and though her illness
was very short and unexpected, so much so that
none of her near connections could reach her in
time, she seemed calm and collected and was
able to leave all in the hands of Him in whom
She was the youngest daughter of Edward
and Eliza Smith of the Haymarket, London.
She was born in Ninth month, 1831, and in a little
more than three years afterwards her father died
after a short illness. This heavy affliction
changed the prospects of the family, and not long
afterwards they removed to Calne, in Wiltshire,
where her mother had been brought up.
From a child M. Smith possessed many
endearing qualities, added to a capacity for learn-
ing, and much perseverance and energy, so that
the pains which her mother took in her education
were not lost upon her. Her attachments were
strong, and an ardent love for the country and
the beauties of natural scenery was early developed
by walks and rambles in the interesting district,
and lasted with her through life.
She however lacked the advantages of a time
at school, and often felt this loss afterwards ;
for, being naturally rather reserved and timid in
company, the mingling with a number of others
in school life would, no doubt, have helped her
greatly, and enabled her to meet the difficulties
of after life with much more ease and less self-
The loss of her beloved mother, when
nearly seventeen, was a great trial to her, and
threw her very much on her own resources ; but
in teaching a few children soon afterwards — an
occupation she was not unaccustomed to, she
showed much aptitude for the employment, and
continued to devote herself to it at intervals
during the remainder of her life. For many
years she carried on a little school at Rawdon,
where she was much beloved and valued, and
was very successful in grounding the children
well and gaining their affections. She was also
particularly diligent in visiting the poor, as she
had been previously when living at Leeds. For
the last few years she was actively engaged in
the temperance cause, being secretary to the
association at Rawdon. One of her fellow
workers writes of her : — " She had a wonderful
capacity for work herself, and a power of
winning others to take it up, both for the
temperance cause and other objects that make
Although of an aspiring and independent
disposition, she was at one period of her life not
unfrequently beset with feelings of depression,
the causes for which were various ; but she
found in service for others a solace for many of
those losses and trials which she had largely to
partake of. An extract from the only memoran-
dum which has been found, of her personal
experience, instructively shows how her heartfelt
desires were answered in a very comforting
manner : —
31st of Twelfth mo., 1869 :— " I feel quite un-
able at all adequately to recount the many mercies
and blessings of the past year, both of a temporal
and spiritual character. During this period
having for the first time in my life continuously
realized the blessing of being in some small
measure truly united to the church and family
of God, after a time of such deep trial and conflict
during the early part of it as many times to have
been led to despair of ever obtaining the victory
over the enemies of my soul, and at others
suffering grief unutterable from a sense of deep
sinfulness. What a cause of the deepest thank-
fulness it is that I have felt the love and
tender mercy of my Saviour extended from
time to time for my help, both immediately
and instrumentally, and many times have been
greatly helped by the ministry of several Friends
in a manner adapted to the state of my feelings
at the time. Once in an especial manner, when
feeling for some time quite unable to arise from
the power of the temptation which continuously
assailed me, that it was impossible for me to
overcome, that I must inevitably fall under the
power of the enemy however much I might
strive, Isaac Robson came to Leeds Meeting on
First-day evening, and stating that he believed
there were some present who were assaulted with
such a temptation, and describing the very same
that I have alluded to, showed' that it would be
impossible for such in their own strength, but
that all things were possible with God ; and that
by keeping a single eye to the Captain of our
salvation, the conquest would be obtained ; but
that it was only to be found by such ceasing to
rely on their own strength, and depending wholly
upon the Saviour ; with much more very salutary
advice on the necessity of great watchfulness,
and frequent communion with God, and seeking
for close communion with Him in secret. I felt
my heart to overflow with gratitude in being thus
graciously condescended to and mercifully
helped, and have many times remembered with
thankfulness that I have never since been
seriously assailed with this temptation, or have
been enabled to make a stand against it, remem-
bering that ' when the enemy shall come in like
a flood the Spirit of the Lord shall lift up a
standard against him.' "
M. Smith was regular in her attendance at
meetings for worship and discipline as far as
circumstances would permit ; and sometimes in
the evening meetings, after a chapter had been
read, she would explain it in a very clear way.
On one of these occasions, not long before she
died, she spoke especially to the children on the
importance of prayer before commencing the
duties of the day, and said how she was helped
and refreshed by it for her daily work ; and also
expressed in an impressive manner her sense of
the uncertainty of life, with desires for all present
that they might know a preparation when the
The summer before her decease she paid
visits to most of her connections, which were
felt to be particularly pleasant ; and one of her
friends remarks after hearing of her decease : —
" Her energy and interest at that time were
wonderful. I much valued her fervent spirit
and breadth of mind, and she seemed to be so
marvellously enabled to keep bodily weakness in
Exerting herself beyond her strength, she
was the less able to withstand an attack of
pneumonia, which proved fatal after two or three
days, on the 27th of 10th month, 1896. It
is a joy to her friends, whilst feeling their loss,
to believe that her purified spirit is at rest from
her labours, and is for ever with her Saviour
whom she loved.
Her loss was much felt in the neighbourhood
by those of all classes ; and in a meeting held
partly in connection with a series of temperance
meetings which she had helped to organize,
many testimonies were borne to the worth of
her character and to her devoted and self-denying
labours for the good of others.
Samuel W. Smith, 63 14 6mo. 1897.
Caroline Spence, 80 25 4m o. 1897.
Tynemouth. An Elder. Widow of Joseph
Joseph Staniland, 77 29 6mo. 1897.
Margaret Steed, 55 16 8mo. 1897.
Baldock. Widow of Oliver Steed.
Grace I. Steib, 31 16 5mo. 1897.
Leytonstone. Widow of Albert E. Steib.
Bichard Sterry, 75 10 llmo. 1896.
Elizabeth G. M. Steven- 39 29 5mo. 1897.
ton, Scarborough. Wife of Stephen R.
Rachel E. Stone, 75 12 12mo. 1896.
Hannah Stott, 56 6 llmo. 1896.
Allen Stringer, 70 8 5mo. 1897.
Edward T. Sturge, 70 18 Imo. 1897.
Hannah Sturge, 79 19 lOmo. 1896.
Birmingham. Widow of Joseph Sturge.
Mary Ann Swinborn, 81 30 9mo. 1897.
Ledbury Road, London. Widow of John D.
Elizabeth S. Sykes, 83 5 7mo. 1897.
Birmingham. Wife of John Sykes.
Clementine Taissaire, — 1 7mo. 1897.
William Taylor, 79 26 2mo. 1897.
Elizabeth Thacker, 79 24 lmo. 1897.
Francis J. Thompson, 83 30 12 1896.
Bridgwater. A Minister.
It has been remarked that the principles of
the Society of Friends are favourable to the de-
velopment of individuality of character ; and
this may be said to be illustrated in the person
of Francis James Thompson, of whom it is pro-
posed to give a short sketch. Without great
talents or unusual opportunities, he gained a
position of much usefulness in various directions^
not the less efficient because his sphere was for
the most part limited to that part of the West of
England in which his life was spent.
He was born in Bridgwater in 1813, received
a plain education in Friends' Schools, and became
an assistant in his father's business at the age of
fifteen. In a little sketch of his early lif e y
written a few years ago, he notes the manner in
which children were formerly brought up ; that
they received less sympathy from their elders
than they do in the present day, and but little
religious instruction and oversight. At the same
time the Meeting he was brought up to attend
was generally silent. Yet he remarks on the way
in which he was preserved from temptations
after leaving school, and how he had found it
true that " the Lord is with you while ye be with
FRANCIS J. THOMPSON.
Him, and if ye seek Him, He will be found of
you." Amongst outward influences, he mentions
with gratitude that of an uncle who was very
kind to him, and used to take him out walks in
the country. This uncle was a good botanist,
and his nephew says, " I feel indebted to him
for having excited my love for nature, or rather
directed my thoughts to consider the works of
the finger of God." The taste thus implanted
continued through life. His friends will remem-
ber especially his love of flowers — how he would
bring in from his rambles a bunch of sweet
woodruff or wild forget-me-nots, and put them
in their hands with something of intense delight.
Francis J. Thompson was a young man
when he entered on his work for the temperance
cause. The story has been told elsewhere of his
being one of • the first to sign the pledge at a
meeting held at Bridgwater in 1836, and of how
when another meeting was attempted a week
later, the forms of the Friends' Meeting House
were broken in the wrath of the opponents. This
incident was not one that would discourage
Francis Thompson in the work. He was straight-
forward and single-minded, and very indepen-
dent. When he saw his way to any measure he
would go right on, and nothing would turn him
back. His advocacy of total abstinence was
warm and consistent for a period of sixty years,
and it formed for a long time, next to business
engagements, his chief work.
At the age of twenty-three he was united in
marriage with Rebecca Stephens of Bridport.
She was well fitted to be his companion and
counsellor, to make his home happy, and to
uphold him in every good work. They had a
large family, and his children recall his tender-
ness and comradeship when they were young,
his sympathy with their pleasures, and even with
their childish dislike of the tedium of lessons
under a somewhat unsympathetic teacher. He
was young with his children, especially during
some happy years when, for the sake of his
wife's health, they resided in a rural home.
His religious life appears to have advanced
steadily, and as it were step by step. Looking
back on the past in the paper already quoted, he
says : — "I thank God, not only that I did not
despise the riches of His goodness and forbear-
ance and long-suffering, but that He has led me
to repentance, and made me (0 may I say),
" Wise unto salvation through faith in Christ
Jesus." There were many indications of the bent
of his mind, and of his desire to serve God,
FRANCIS J. THOMPSON.
although it was not till later on that, to use the
words of a well-known writer, u the life of
religion rose in strength and clearness in the
character, and manifested itself by indubitable
proofs." His spiritual life seemed to be much
deepened during an illness in middle life, and it
was soon after this that he began to take vocal
part in meetings for worship, much to the com-
fort and help of his own Meeting. His ministry
had from first to last the same characteristics —
earnestness and reality ; not fluency of utterance,
but considerable freshness in the mode of express-
ion. It is curious to read in a sketch of him as a
politician, a description of his speeches, which
might with little alteration be applied to his
addresses in the ministry. Of these also it may
be said that " they were simple, earnest, dignified
utterances," which carried weight because they
were " the out-spoken convictions of a righteous
man." The depth of his religious feelings, his
reverence and trust were evidenced in his often
touching prayers, both in meeting and when
surrounded by his family circle.
From the period of his life just mentioned,
Francis Thompson always felt that the advance-
ment of the Kingdom of Christ was the cause
dearest to his heart. But he had his own ideas
as to modes of working, and did not readily unite
with associations that were elaborately organized,
even shrinking from arrangements which are
generally found necessary for combined action in
any good work. Accordingly, though con-
sistently and by conviction a Friend, he never
entered heartily into the work of the Society as-
such. For years his face was familiar at his own
Quarterly Meetings, but he did not like the usual
careful and exact methods and routine. The
same feeling showed itself in relation to
other religious organizations ; he preferred
aiding those who were working on their
own lines with individual earnestness. When
the late Lord Cavan and Lord Radstock were
holding revival services in the West of England,,
Francis Thompson was deeply interested, and
helped to the utmost of his power. The Meeting
House at Bridgwater was brought into requisition,
and a weekly prayer meeting, then established
there for any who liked to attend it, continued
to be held for many years. The missions of Dr.
Baedeker, whose name will be familiar to some,
attracted his sympathy and support, and he also
enjoyed his personal friendship. There were
more private efforts, visits to one of the common
lodging-houses in the town, and probably much
FRANCIS J. THOMPSON.
besides which was very little known. As regards
the cause of temperance and that of social purity,
which was also very dear to his heart, he did not
find it difficult to unite with the organizations
employed, and the work brought him into friendly
communication with persons of widely different
Francis Thompson was one who, although'
supremely interested in religious objects, was at
the same time alive to everything that could
benefit humanity, especially in his native town..
His hand and influence, as well as his material
help, were felt in many things — in municipal
matters, in the establishment of a Free Library,,
the formation of the School Board, and other
improvements in which Bridgwater has not been
behind the times. He was Mayor of the town
in 1883, when he gave the usual banquet without
any alcoholic beverages ; and when, during his
term of office, the licensing day was approaching,
he issued a circular to the magistrates, declining
to share the responsibility of granting or renewing
any licenses whatever. He was afterwards made
an Alderman, and later a representative on the
County Council ; and in all these capacities he
served his fellow-townsmen to the utmost of his
power. u The more faith I have the happier I
am, and the stronger I feel," were words spoken
by him at a meeting in Bristol the year before
his mayoralty ; and it was this faith working by
love which prompted what he did, and also
enabled him to subdue the faults of a tempera-
ment not naturally serene.
The golden wedding of Francis and Rebecca
Thompson was celebrated at their home, Hamp
Green, near Bridgwater, in the summer of 1886.
They had lost three children, one in infancy and
a son and a daughter, both married, who had died
some years before. But there were nine surviv-
ing, and of these all but one who was in India
were able to gather on the happy occasion, a
number of grandchildren being also present. It
was a day of real rejoicing, and both parents
were able to enter into it with thankful hearts.
They were gratified by receiving a poem written
for the occasion, concluding with these lines :—
"And scarce can we believe what still we know,
That bridal morn was fifty years ago.
Time hath but lightly touched her hair and brow,
And left his form erect, his step elastic now.
' 'Blest in each other, in their children blest,
O happy pair, whose love so true and tried
Is dearer yet in His : the bidden Guest
Whose presence cheers them more than all beside.
He fills their cup with gladness to the brim,
For they are one for evermore in Him."
FRANCIS J. THOMPSON.
There were a few more years of compara-
tively active service, and then Francis Thompson's
health began to fail, and after repeated attacks-
of illness it became evident that there was some
loss of mental power. His beloved wife continued
as ever bright in mind and spirit, but she had
long been delicate, and was taken from him,,
after a short illness, on her seventy-ninth birth-
day, in the winter of 1893. He survived her
three years, in a state of bodily and mental
weakness, tenderly cared for by children and
friends, and showing from time to time glimpses
of the faith and love which had long been his.
After a few days of increased feebleness he died
on the 30th of Twelfth month, 1896. There was:
a large gathering at the funeral, including the-
Mayor and Corporation, companies of the-
Kechabite Society and other temperance associa-
tions, and a number of near and distant relatives-
Letitia Thompson, 87 25 lmo. 1897..
Bournemouth. Widow of Samuel Thompson.
Mary Maw Thompson, 84 13 7mo. 1897..
Gainsborough. Widow of Richard Thompson.
Philip Thompson, 48 11 3mo. 1897-
Ootacamund, South India.
Eliza. Ventress, 64 27 lmo. 1897.
Drighlington. Wife of Benjamin Ventress.
Jane Walker, 72 5 4mo., 1897.
Eccles. A Minister. Widow of Jonathan
Mary Ann Walker, 32 22 9mo. 1897.
Isaac Gray Wallis, 74 20 2mo. 1897.
Wakefield. An Elder.
Many in Pontefract Monthly Meeting and
Yorkshire Quarterly Meeting will miss from their
gatherings the cheerful greeting and genial
presence of Isaac Gray Wallis. For more than
rfif ty years he had been a diligent and thoughtful
attender, and his warm interest in all matters
concerning the welfare of the Society, and his
kindly love to its members, only ceased with his
He was born at Rothwell (pronounced Roel)
Lodge, near Kettering, one of a family of ten
•children. It was not a home of affluence, but
the sturdy characters of his father and mother,
Robert and Maria Wallis, left their mark upon
all their children. It has often been our pleasure
to hear I. G. Wallis speak of their struggles in
life, and their firm adherence to principle. He
.truly " honoured his father and mother."
ISAAC GRAY WALLIS.
Isaac Gray Wallis first came into Yorkshire
in going to Ackworth School. It was in the
winter, and it seems to us rather hard for a boy
thus to leave his home and parents, to ride-
outside the coach in the cold, to stay the night
with strangers at Wakefield, and then go on to-
the " Boot and Shoe " at Ackworth Moor Top-
in the morning.
From Ackworth School he went apprentice
to Francis Spence, at Dewsbury. In 1844, he
commenced business as a hosier in Cross Square,,
at Wakefield. In old prints of this part of the
city we see the name over the shop front u I. GL
Wallis," and until the end of Second month, 1897,
when he died, no change had taken place in either
principal or management. Around this shop and
his home at Newton Lodge cluster the associations-
of his life. To the shop there would often come
some fellow townsman for advice or help. Many
a well-known Friend has been welcomed there as-
he came on errands for the cause of Truth.
One of the notable features at the shop was
the Monthly Meeting dinner in the cellar kitchen..
Newton Lodge was too far away for Friends to-
go there who were returning home the same day,,
and there was not another room on the business
premises large enough, so that all who would
come — high and low, rich and poor — found their
way with a cordial welcome, and many a time
with a hearty laugh, into " the cellar kitchen at
the shop." It is pleasant to recall these occasions.
Here it was that our Friend's character shone out,
not only in ready wit, but in strong common
■sense, and always in good humour. In remem-
bering this constant brightness of spirit, it is
instructive to believe that it was the outcome of
genuine religious feeling.
Though well known to almost everyone in
this own city, he did not aspire to public office.
He was, however, for some years a Guardian of
the poor, and for nine years a member of and
chairman of the Outwood School Board.
His interest in Ackworth School never
abated. For many years he was a member of
its committee, and was so at the time of his
To those who knew him, his memory will
always be associated with the cause of temper-
ance. He became an abstainer at the age of
fourteen, and through all his life never ceased to
advocate total abstinence on all suitable occasions.
He was always a popular speaker on the subject,
both in the city and in neighbouring towns and
ISAAC GRAY WALLIS.
But to know him best and at his best was to
know him at home. Gentleness and love went
with him round his homestead, amongst his
poultry and amongst his cattle. Never was he
so happy as when, with his wife beside him, he
was at work in the garden. All children loved
him because he loved them. " Well, joy ! " was
the usual opening in his intercourse with the
little ones, and it was rarely that the little flower
did not expand its petals to the sunshine in his
His life, as he lived it, is his record. Occa-
sionally he spoke in meetings for worship, and
we believe it was always with acceptance by his
Until within a year of his death, he was
an active, fresh-looking man ; but during the
last year he suffered from pernicious anaemia,
under which he gradually wasted away. Through
all this time of waning strength no murmur or
complaint escaped him. There was no irritability.
He bore his weakness with resignation, and until
he became unconscious, he retained that cheerful-
ness which had been so marked a characteristic
of his life. And when at last the end came, he
passed away quietly and painlessly
" To where beyond these voices there is peace."
Marriage Wallis, 77 1 6mo. 1897.
Brighton. A Minister.
When Marriage Wallis was twenty years
old he wrote in his journal, " Heavenly Father,
grant me I pray Thee no longer to halt between
two opinions, but to fully and in earnest give
myself up to serve Thee." He was then
weighted with responsibilities beyond his years,
and in a position requiring not only keen business
energy, but much of heavenly wisdom to keep
himself in his surroundings. Long and arduous
hours left little time for self-cultivation, yet this
was crowded in, There is a careful finish about
the work even of this early period, which shows
that self -reverence, self-knowledge, self-control
were already watchwords with him, and that
beyond this he realized the dignity of consecration
as expressed in the words of his favourite poet : —
"All is if I have grace to use it so
As ever in my great Taskmaster's eye."
In after life he often spoke of the controlling
influences of the memory of a much loved
mother, and of the wise, bright interest which
his father took in the varied hopes and experiences
of his family of eight sons. Another stimulat-
ing and formative influence was his close
companionship with his " dear old master and
loved and esteemed relative, Isaac Bass." "Prompt
and vigorous in action he seemed to impart to me
a portion of his own spirit," is his testimony to the
power this interesting and remarkable character
exercised on his own.
A little later responsibilities thickened
around him. These were nobly shared, now as
always, by his beloved wife, Hannah Thistle-
thwaite of Sunderland, to whom he was united in
1848. His own business cares, and still more
those of others dear to him, were almost over-
whelming at times, tasking his strength at last to
the point of severe physical illness. " My
prayer is," he writes, " that I may be enabled to
fulfil my duties in business in the world without
being swallowed up by it. Oh for the state of
being in the world without being of the world. My
many cares do grievously absorb my mind, and I
believe that nothing will avail to help me herein
but constant prayer.
It appears likely that during this illness,
which proved one of intense suffering, and
demanded long seasons of enforced rest, the
thought of service for others came more
definitely before him. Opportunities came one by
one as strength returned, and were as simply and
promptly accepted. His humility and selfless-
ness took the form of accepting services and
responsibilities when they were put upon him,
without shrinking from what it might involve to
himself. Strength came with the burden. As a
little lad his parents had placed the younger
brothers under his charge, as he drove them to
and from school in the town of Chelmsford.
The confidence was not misplaced ; and the
conscientious child, to whom the father refers in
his journal with almost a tender reverence, grew
up to be a man in whom it seemed a natural
thing that other men and women, and little
children too should implicitly trust. The little
private office and his own room at home, were
places to which it seemed that every form of
sorrow could find its way for counsel and relief.
Young men came with their confessions of sudden
difficulty ; old men brought their hopeless story of
broken down fortunes. His clear, perceptive mind
rapidly summed up his visitor. No one stepped
more decidedly upon hypocrisy, or had a sounder
contempt for the " pride " that preferred secret,
beggary to hard work. But his kindly sympathy
acted like a tonic on the depressed and lonely
ones, and many a word of sound manly advice
and cheery encouragement sent the applicant the
richer on his way. He was singularly apt in
saying exactly the right word at the right time.
K In one of the darkest days of my life," writes
one, "I went to Mr. Wallis for counsel and com-
fort ; and the sympathy I met with, the kindly
grasp of the hand and inspiriting ' Be of good
cheer,' with which the interview terminated,
will never be forgotten. Often since then the
words have come echoing across the dark waters'
and the influence of that 1 Be of good cheer,'
has again and again restored the failing powers
of hope." " I shall never forget," said a lady to
the writer, " going to him with an overwhelming
anxiety. He listened to all, and then gently
said : ( All I can say to you is this : — Peace, be
still.' It was all that was needed, not only for
that day. but for many other times of difficulty
beside : the word of peace in a storm."
He was a more or less active citizen of the
town of Brighton for sixty-three years, and
probably there was no one who during the
greater part of that time had more influence in
it, though he never sought it in a public capacity.
But a constant and wide-reaching stream of
activity flowed from his little business sanctum.
Movements social, political, and religious, had
their beginnings there. His predecessor, Isaac
Bass, had established precedents which stood in
political life for freedom, reform and absolute
religious equality. These traditions were faith-
fully adhered to, with perhaps less originality of
method than in the olden time, but with equal
pertinacity and high aim ; and probably Brighton
never stood higher politically, than when the
little coterie of clear-thinking, high-principled
men, of which M. Wallis formed a leading
member, was the influential power of the town.
Temperance, it is needless to say, was a branch
of social duty he felt keenly and personally.
Some of the most interesting passages of his life
might be taken in connection with the histories
of those he was able to help, which those who
heard them graphically described by his own lips
can never forget. He did not confine his interest
to the drunkard in the street. He was faithful
to men and women in his own standing. Medical
men, friends in distress, would come to him for
help in cases of secret, but no less terrible tempta-
tion. Here the sympathy, tact and common
sense that distinguished him had special play,
though probably the spiritual forces of faith and
prayer were the actual conquering power. Nor
was it an unusual thing for a strong bond of
intense reverence and love to arise out of work
in this direction. " Ink is too dark," writes one
of these restored ones, a man of some position
and ability, whose rescue twice accomplished
from a drunkard's grave, is a story of remarkable
interest, — " Ink is too dark to be used in writing
of the beloved one ; pure and shining gold are but
feeble tokens of such a life."
But undoubtedly the subjects he made most
his own were the School Board and the Young
Men's Christian Association. In the former he
arduously worked, chiefly in the position as
vice-chairman and chairman, for thirteen years,
closely associated in this work, as in many others,
with his friend and partner Daniel Hack. This
work, and his position in later years as a magis-
trate, brought him into close and sympathetic
interest with the poor of the town, to whom he
was always a true friend ; as also with the police,
whom as a body he did his best to raise and help,
combining with another to provide them with an.
With no interest however is he more closely
identified that with that of the Y.M.C.A. The
large number of young men at Brighton, most
of them cut off from all home associations and 1
exposed to many temptations, appealed to him.
He saw the value of the organization of the
Y.M.C.A. as a means of reaching and holding
them, and in the face of many discouragements,
after years of quiet work, succeeded, in con-
junction with others, in providing Brighton with
.a very fine Institute which has become a centre
of great and far-reaching usefulness to the young
men of that town, as well as to many who visit
it from other places. As President he threw
into this work not only time and money, but
some of the best energies of his life. Its
interests were his, and no joy was greater than
when there were definite results in the changed
lives and characters of the members. Many
touching letters, both during his life-time and
-since he has been taken from their head, attest the
power he was among them. Broad in sympathy
and generous in spirit, the reality of his genial,
joyous Christianity was a gospel to be read of
Probably his first concern for those outside
our borders was for his own workmen, for
whom for many years he held a meeting every
week, fresh, real, and invigorating, which had a
distinct work. There was always a spirit of
true comradeship between master and men, and
their earthly as well as spiritual well-being lay
.near his heart.
When, in the year 1870, M. Wallis was
acknowledged a Minister, the Meeting at
Brighton largely consisted of birthright members.
Gradually however, owing to Adult School work,
the tract districts, and other agencies, a con-
siderable influx of new member and attenders
were added to the congregation. With eager
solicitude he accepted this new responsibility,
entering warmly into all plans for the careful
shepherding of the flock. His genial sympathy
and kindliness went out to any and all who came,,
and, combined with wise oversight and fatherli-
ness, wrought a strong bond around the whole-
congregation. The remarkable power was his*
of making everyone conscious of his kindly
interest and welcome.
He was a thorough " Friend," and gave some-
of his best energies to the affairs of the church,,
taking living interest in meetings for discipline
and all work arising from them, including the
" His ministry was singularly fresh anJ
invigorating. No man was his copy. Scriptural
exposition he enjoyed. There was an orignality
that won, while there was a readiness to learnt
from all. As years ran on there was a maturity
of sympathy and of large heartedness in his
gospel addresses that made it evident to those-
who listened to him that he drank from the
original source of all true inspiration, the well-
spring of life in Christ Jesus." — (From "The
But in his ministry the power lay behind the
words — in the character. In his journals there is
no prayer so often raised as for purity of heart
and singleness of aim. Herein lay the secret
which made his strength "as the strength of
ten." " Quiet and self-contained," says one who
knew him, "the secret of this holy calm was
surely to be found in the expressed intensity
of the power imparted by purity of heart." The
object of his life seemed to be to maintain the
unity of the spirit in the bond of peace. This is
an extremely difficult plane of life on which to
move ; but if any one reached it and lived upon
it he did. When in full vigour his offices as
peacemaker were in constant request.
In the many letters, amounting to several
hundreds, since his death, nothing is more striking
ithan the frequent remark: "He was my best
friend"; showing the quality of heart that could
make one man stand first with so many about
him, the more remarkable when we consider this
love was won without effort, and simply in
response to little acts of kindness and thought-
fulness it was his nature to give.
But joy is the light that reaches farthest out
to sea ; and his bright, healthy temperament,,
which never harboured bitterness, but ever
thought the best of all, had a singularly attractive-
power. " Life is too short to take offence,'' was
one of his sayings. He had a ready eye for the-
many-sidedness of life, in the best sense warmed
both hands at its fires, enjoyed and loved the
beauty around him, and as life narrowed with
increasing infirmity, and the outer world retired,
he stepped back with a sweet patience into the-
rich kingdom of his own mind, and within the
walls of his own home and the garden which he-
dearly loved, found and rejoiced in no less real
sources of happiness — his flowers, his books, and
the pretty interests of his little grandchildren.
The shadow of his life fell, when, with but
a few days' warning, his beloved wife, the true-
companion of his life, was taken from him. This-
overwhelming blow did not strike him to the-
earth, though rapidly increasing physical weak-
ness had made him increasingly dependent upon
His buoyant hope and faith raised him above
the present sorrow to the future beyond. " Many
limes to-day," he writes on the anniversary of
his loss, "has her beloved form been before my
mind's eye ; but a voice whispers, £ She is not
here' ; and then the humble faith comfortably
whispers too, ' She is with her Saviour in heaven.'
Lord, prepare me to rejoin her there when my
time shall come."
More than three years of waiting followed,
years of suffering and limitation, borne with
patience and fortitude. In this time nothing
afforded him greater delight than the reading of
John Bunyan's works, especially the u Pilgrim's
Progress." In spite of increased mental weak-
ness his chief refuge was prayer ; and his tender
thought for others was often touchingly present.
On the 1st of Sixth month, 1897, with his children
around him, the call came, and in great calm he
stepped down through the river and entered in at
the beautiful Gate of the City.
Joseph Walls, 40 27 4mo. 1897.
Lydia J. Walter 50 23 4mo. 1897.
Tring. Wife of John Walter.
Robert Warner, 81 17 12mo. 1896.
Hannah E. Watson, 78 10 4mo. 1897.
MARIAN I. WEDMORE. 175
John A. Watson, 79 29 6mo. 1897.
Kings Cross Road, London.
Mary Ann Watson, 67 11 5mo. 1897.
Dmiwood, Stoke-on-Trent. Wife of John W.
Eliza F. Watts, 27 9 5mo. 1897.
Higher Broughton. Daughter of Joseph and
William Webley, 81 27 lOmo. 1896.
Thomas Wedmore, 88 5 2mo. 1897.
Druids' Stoke, near Bristol.
Marian I. Wedmore, 39 25 llmo. 1896.
Druids' 1 Stoke. Daughter of Thomas Wedmore.
It was on the 18th of Third month, 1857,
that Isabelle Wedmore was born at Stoke Hill
Cottage, Stoke Bishop, Bristol. Her lameness
as a child, and several painful operations on her
foot, made her life different, in some respects,
from that of other young children, and she early
began to write stories, and to find in the world
of imagination the pleasures that were denied
her in the world of sense. Perhaps it was her
childish experience of pain which taught her that
patience and composure under it so memorable
throughout her life, and especially in her last
short, distressing illness.
From a bright, intelligent, sweet-tempered
child, she grew into a high-minded girl, gentle
and dreamy for the most part, but waking, ever
and again, to sudden acts of unselfish helpful-
ness. In her school days she was never satisfied
without getting to the bottom of everything.
" You will know all about it," her music-master
would say, in response to her many questions ;
and the other teachers said the same. She was
particularly interested at that time in anything
mathematical or scientific, but was conscientious
and painstaking in everything, carefully thinking
out what she had to do. The earnestness of pur-
pose and deep thoughtf ulness that characterised
her at school were no less striking in her later
life , and were brought to bear upon the smallest
details. Such was her consciousness of the
importance of details, that to her there were no-
such things : all were linked to and part of
a great whole, and involved principles. This
perception of principle, which was shown more
lately and most strongly with regard to conduct
and all that concerned the moral and spiritual
life, also marked, as her youngest sister remem-
bers, her early study of science, physical and
moral. She would know facts in Botany,.
Physiology, or Political Economy, not as facts,,
MARIAN I. WEDMORE. 177
but as expressions of an underlying law or
tendency, so that all she touched, whether it was
the intellectual study of earlier days, or later, the
conscious development of the spiritual life,
was marked by the same characteristic.
As a subject for reading, Italy was the one
that lasted longest. It began with reading
Mazzini, and with her own ideas of what a State
should be ; then she went back to Savonarola, in
whom as a man and- a philosopher she was
intensely interested. She took a great interest
in the "Makers of Modern Italy," both in the
little book of that name, and in Italian politics.
Her reading of latter years had been more on the
study of the Bible, as Westcott's " Introduction
to the study of the Gospels"; and on Christian
evidences, as Tylor's " Witnesses for Christ,"
which she was reading at the time of her
Many felt that the strongest impression she
made on them was that of her intense desire to
do right, and her equally strong craving that
those whom she loved should care above all
things to do right. When she prayed aloud it
was almost always that she might be made
to know the will of God and to do it. Her
conception of prayer was almost worthy of
a Marcus Aurelius or a Liddon. We quote her
own words : —
" To pray puts the spirit under her native
skies, where she can draw sweet breath and bathe
the eyes with that light which drenches all the
air, and look up, and behold ! no pause, no
hindrance to the everlasting deeps, answering
for ever in blue to her limitless regard."
Her concern for others, as we have said, was
very real and great, and it was one of her most
earnest longings to make use of some of the
things she had learned, for their benefit. This
longing for a sphere of work was never fully
satisfied, and her soul was always in quest of the
happiness of definite and concentrated service.
But the unconscious service of her influence was
a fact of daily life. Hardly any could come
into contact with her at her best, and not be the
gainer by it ; and to sympathetic minds she was
a revelation of the pure in heart, who even now
on earth are seeing God.
A Quaker in every-day life, she believed that
if she looked for and waited upon the Inner
Light, it would show the way to be followed
every hour ; and, acting on this belief, she not
only did what she felt she should do, but also she
refrained from doing a thing unless she felt led
MARIAN I. WEDMORE.
to it. That she sometimes mistook her own
fancies for a Divine leading, and failed to " try
the spirits " before she followed them, was per-
haps inevitable to an impulsive temperament ;
but her great uprightness and sense of duty kept
her on the whole in the paths of wisdom.
More than once she spoke in Meeting, and
nearly always made a point of keeping silence as
she went to it. Her appreciation of silence is
brought out in a " Thought on Quaker Society " : —
" One of the things I so much appreciate in
Quaker society, is that in an ordinary call
silence can come not only not amiss (to be driven
out at any cost), but as a welcome form of grace,
out of which may spring a touch of thought
totally impossible to people who don't know the
vitality of silence."
It was thought rather striking, at the Yearly
Meeting of 189.6, that one comparatively young,
as she was, should have had the courage to ask
for a time of united prayer when a Friend had a
concern to go and speak in the Men's Meeting.
This Friend was much touched by her request,
and said it was a great strength to her in that
hour of need.
Isabelle Wedmore was a comforter and
friend to many. " I can feel what her loss is to
those she belonged to," said one in the humble
walks of life, "if to me it is so sad." She
was cordial in her manner to strangers, and quite
ready to be friendly ; but only her chosen friends
knew all her responsiveness, her clinging depen-
dence, her tender gravity. She had a u glowing
smile," and a "gentle enthusiasm which showed
itself more in her eyes than in her words." Her
sense of humour was keen, her laugh most in-
fectious, and her enjoyment of games and her
excitement over them carried everyone away
It seems almost impossible to write an
account of Isabelle and to say nothing of her
sister Mary, who died in Sixth month, 1895. In
this place it may be of interest to mention that
for the last two years of her life Mary had reported
the Women's Yearly Meeting for the " British
Friend " with that thoroughness and grasp of
her subject which characterised all she under-
took; and her brother Frederick Wedmore says,
"It is fitting to declare how much her clear in-
telligence, calm sweetness, and serviceable
wisdom in the affairs of life were the needed
corrective, or, if we prefer it, the helpful com-
plement of the characteristics that were especially
MARIAN I. WEDMORE.
On the 5th of Second month, 1897, their
father, Thomas Wedmore, died, in his eighty-
Isabelle died at Druids' Stoke on the 25th,
of Eleventh month, 1896 ; and when she was laid
by her mother and sister in the little graveyard
at Laurence Weston, there were many to whom
the world was left emptier than before. But
there are thoughts of comfort for those who still
feel her influence amongst them now that she
has entered the fuller life — thoughts which find
utterance in the writings of several of her
friends. " There she is with her soaring spirit,
which was nearly always in an intense state of
aspiration towards the Divine and the beautiful,
there she is with the earthly instrument,
the brain and the body, just thrown off and
leaving her free. 11 Another friend writes, " She
was here a most spiritual creature, occupied
wholly with the breath that blows from the
mysteries of Life and Love fanned into a flame
under its inspiration. That is why I call her
spiritual rather than religious ; she did not rest,
she aspired and sought and glowed and scarcely
knew whither the winds of God carried her."
The same friend has written these lines "In
Memoriam " : —
"Isa, thou wert to me
As a sea-bird wheeling athwart the sea.
I watched thee passing by
Ocean, and ocean-sky,
And all thy play was with Infinity.
Now thou art gone,
Thou art to me
As a fair halcyon ;
Life's rocking sea
Smooths itself out for thee to rest upon."
Isabella Weir, 16 26 lmo. 1897.
Newry. Daughter of the late James Weir.
Anna E. Whiting, 68 6 3mo. 1897.
Headhigley. A Minister. Wife of John
Anna Rebecca Whiting was bom in Bristol
on the 18th of Fourth month, 1829. She was
the daughter of James and Mary Gilpin, her
mother being a sister of the late Joseph Sturge.
She was a member of a family of fifteen, thirteen
of whom grew up to maturity. Her mother died
when she was thirteen years old, whilst she was
at school at Sidcot, where her lively spirits and
bright temperament made her a general favourite.
Whilst engaged in First-day School work at
Peckham she met with John Whiting, to whom
ANNA R. WHITING.
she was married in 1850, and at once took charge
of the business house at Leeds.
Though she was unable to speak of any
definite time of conversion, she thus records the
Divine dealings with her : — " Though a most
troublesome girl and a cause of grief to my
mistress and teachers, I had some precious
vistings ; this was more particularly the case at
meetings. When listening to the ministry of dear
Mary Tanner, I was brought to feel that if I only
yielded to the pointings of duty, the constraining
influence of a Heavenly Father's love, I should
also have to resign myself to the same important
It was on Fourth month 1st, 1855, when
nearly twenty-six years of age, that she first said
a few words in the ministry at a meeting for
discipline, and was wonderfully strengthened to
do it. She felt discouraged afterwards at no
sensible advance in her religious experience
resulting from it. She hoped it would have been
far otherwise, and added, " Perhaps it is intended
to teach me entire dependence on my Saviour.
Grant me patience, oh my God."
In 1863, after the death of a young sister-in-
law, she says : — " So solemnly was I impressed
with the uncertainty of life and the touching
scene of this young and interesting girl laid in a
state of unconsciousness, and if the work of her
soul's salvation had not been attended to in the
time of health there would have been no oppor-
tunity, that I felt as if commissioned with a
message from that bed of death to our dear
younger Friends, that they might be led earnestly
to consider their latter end. In pursuance of
this view, I drew up a short account of our dear
sister, together with that of one of her dearest
friends who had died rather suddenly some three
weeks before. Friends most kindly made way
for me to hold a few meetings, which I trust
will not have been in vain. I felt that in my
utter weakness, and in much fear and trembling,
God helped me to deliver the message com-
mitted to me : to Him be all the glory. Meetings
have been held at Leeds, Sheffield, Bradford,
Huddersfield, Halifax, and Ackworth, at all of
which dear Friends were enabled to help me and
share the concern with me. In the retrospect of
this little service peaceful are my feelings, and
I can add my testimony to the truth that the
Lord is indeed no hard Master, but that even to
the very feeblest of His followers He is pleased
to make hard things easy and crooked things
straight, and to be a very present helper in every
time of need.
ANNA R. WHITING.
A deep sense of her own unworthiness led
to searchings of heart as to whether her Lord
had entrusted to her the responsible service of
the ministry of the Word. In this time of
spiritual conflict entries in her journal speak
gratefully of the help she derived from the
loving sympathy and counsel of Benjamin
Seebohm. She was recorded a Minister in 1870,
and though at the time she felt deeply impressed
with the solemn responsibility thus laid upon
her, she was enabled calmly to leave the decision
of her friends in God's hands. She felt it would
be wrong to fear that the earnest prayer of so
many of the Lord's children would be dis-
Shortly after this she was taken ill with a
very serious attack of typhoid fever, accompanied
with ten days of unconsciousness. On her re-
covery she writes: — "My warm welcome back
to life has been very humiliating ; I am now
deeply feeling the responsibility of a spared life.
Oh that it may be spent in the Lord's service ! "
There are many who can remember her
first address in meeting after this illness, from
the words, " When I see the blood I will pass
•over you." In the course of it she dwelt on her
experiences in the Border Land from which she
had been recalled, and on her sense of the precious-
ness of the atoning blood.
She was warmly interested in all the work
of the Society of Friends, and for thirty years,
with only one omission, attended the Yearly
After being for eleven years at or near the
table of the Women's Yearly Meeting, she
expected to be released from office, and had her-
self offered prayer for wisdom, and that the mind
of some dear Friend might be prepared to fill the
office of Clerk, when she was much surprised at
hearing her own name proposed, and supported to
such an extent that she felt this must be in
accordance with the Divine will. But " Oh ! '
she writes, " I felt so humbled and crushed as if
I should like to get out of sight of everyone ; the
feeling was almost overwhelming. I thought of
the dear devoted women who had rilled that
position, and queried if it were possible that I
could follow them. I felt greatly troubled ; but
He who said to the angry billows, ' Peace be
still,' did not desert me in the time of need
With great sweetness the words were brought to
my remembrance, ' In quietness and confidence
shall be your strength ' ; and through the whole
Yearly Meeting I proved their truth. The con-
ANNA K. WHITING. 187
stant breathing of my soul was ' Lord, help me,'
and He always did."
A. R, Whiting gave unstinted personal
service in ministering to the sick and dying, in
days when trained nurses were not obtainable ;
and she rarely paid such visits without taking
flowers in her hand to cheer the patients and
brighten the sick room. The work above all
others that lay near to her heart was the super-
vision of the Headingley Orphan Homes, which
developed, under her hands, from a company of
eight children in a hired house in 1865, to
seventy-six, in four permanent homes. The last
was opened, as were the rest, free of debt, in
1885, when she says, " What a joy to have
another home for the children. I shall never be
thankful enough to God for permitting me to
labour in this field of service, gathering in the
children, and I trust training them for Him.
We have had abundant blessing in the work, with
very few discouragements ; all glory to His
Many other forms of active service occupied
her ; among these were the Workhouse and
Infirmary visitation, which she continued for
twenty-nine years ; mothers' meetings ; superin-
tendence of Bible women ; and rescue work.
The temperance cause always found in her
an earnest advocate. She invariably carried in
her purse two or three pieces of blue ribbon ready
for bestowal when occasion offered. In 1887 she
was allowed to read an address from the Women's
Christian Temperance Union to the Congrega-
tional Union, then holding its meetings in Leeds.
She says : — " I shrank from it very much, when
the subject of an address was first mentioned.
I rebelled against it, thinking I might have to
present it ; and when it was prepared I wrote
such a letter with it as to make it most easy to
refuse a deputation. But a note came from Dr. H.
saying we might come and also be allowed to
speak. Oh, what searching of heart, what
earnest prayer ! There was little sleep that
night, and truly we went in fear and trembling ;
but after united prayer the fear seemed taken
away. Never shall I forget the solemn feeling
of standing before about a thousand ministers
and delegates. I thought of their immense influ-
ence in the cause for which I pleaded. I seemed
to realize as I stood before them the misery and
degradation brought about by drink, the wretched
drunkards, the poor little children, etc., and then
how these men might help in the cause. I
pleaded with them in a few simple words, but
ANNA R. WHITING.
words, I reverently believe, accompanied by the
power of the Holy Ghost, which went home to
the heart in a wonderful manner. There were
few dry eyes. It was the Lord's doing and
marvellous in our eyes ; to Him be all the glory.
Numerous were the testimonies given to the
impressive effect upon the meeting. Surely it
will do good, for our God did answer prayer."
Anna R. Whiting was often asked to use
her gift in the ministry in connection with other
denominations. Of one of these occasions she
writes in 1892 : — " I was asked to speak in
Belgrave Chapel at a meeting for men. I felt
it a solemn responsibility — between six and
seven hundred men present. The Lord's presence
was with me and He gave His help in delivering
the message. As I was walking away a gentle-
man joined- me and said the message bad gone
home to him. He spoke with tears and also with
joy as he told me he had decided for Christ.
Oh ! it was so good of God to let me have this
encouragement. I very seldom see any fruit of
my ministry, and my heart was just filled with
gratitude. I kept on saying, u Praise the Lord,"
to think He should use such a poor, weak instru-
ment in the salvation of a soul ! I think I never
felt such true joy."
Perhaps the great charm of her life and that
which endeared her to all who knew her, was the
practical Christianity, the warm-hearted kindli-
ness that pervaded her character. Wherever she
met with the helpless, the fallen or the sufl: ering r
she was ready with eager willingness to render
assistance and extend loving sympathy. One part
of her every day work is well described in the
simple lines : —
" If a smile we may renew,
As our journey we pursue,
Oh ! the good we all may do
As the days are going by."
She would often triumphantly say, "I made her
smile before I left her."
In 1890 A. R. Whiting's family removed to
a new house at Cliff -side. In reference to this
she writes : — " We are so very grateful that such
a house has been provided for us ; it is so far
beyond our utmost expectations ; we do desire to-
make it a happy sojourning place for many of
God's dear children, and that it may be used for
His glory." That this desire has been fulfilled
not a few can testify ; and many a helpful
gathering has been held there, both for prayer and:
For the last two or three years she was
conscious of somewhat failing powers, though
ANNA R. WHITING.
others noticed little abatement of her cheerful 1
On the First-day, the 28th of Second month,,
she spoke with much solemnity in the morning
meeting for worship, from the words, " Behold
a greater than Solomon is here." She gave a<
warm motherly welcome to two young women'
engaged in business, whom she had taken pains
to invite to spend the day at Cliff-side, and she
was again down at the evening meeting. On
Second-day morning she presided as usual
at the committee meeting of the Women's
Christian Temperance Union, held in her
drawing-room, and took part in the arrange-
ments for the meetings to be held, at which she-
was to preside. She went at noon to address a
meeting of the Young Women Students' Inter-
collegiate Christian Union, and in the evening
had a sudden desire to join the happy gathering
of the women's class at Burley Road, and to see
her daughter-in-law preside ; so she went down,
alone ; and it was remarked how " bonny" andi
happy she was looking.
She had eagerly looked forward to a few
days in London, during the sittings of the
Friends' Foreign Mission Committee, which her
husband, her daughter and her son-in-law were
to attend, and had, as she said, " a delightful
programme " before her. She joined the Friends
in the Meeting for Sufferings room previous to
the Missionary Prayer Meeting, where her loving
greetings were welcomed by many. Meeting
over, she accompanied W.H. to Westfield
College, to visit her grand-daughter and niece,
spending an hour in their rooms, having cocoa
with them and visiting their friends, delighting
•them with her bright, sympathetic interest.
While dressing the next morning she
felt a dull pain in her chest and back. The
doctor's diagnosis was neuralgia of the heart.
The pain became so severe that it was with
difficulty that she got to bed. During the morn-
ing she referred to the possibility of her not
returning to Leeds, and spoke lovingly of
her grandchildren, especially remembering the
youngest, " dear little Johnnie." She told the
doctor that she wanted to get well : " You know
I have seventy children to look after."
In the evening she found pleasure in listen-
ing to the singing of a few hymns, and she
;spoke of and repeated some lines of a piece of
poetry she was fond of, commencing with
' ' Rock of Ages, cleft for me,
Carelessly the maiden sang."
ANNA R. WHITING.
When morning came, she listened to the 111th
Psalm, and added "Amen" to a prayer for
strength and comfort for the day. About an
hour after this came a sudden access of pain, and
in a few moments, before her husband could
reach the bedside, her spirit had fled.
* ' The music of her life is nowise stilled,
But blended so with song around the throne
That our poor ears no longer hear it."
21 lOmo. 1896.
6 7mo. 1896.
2 2mo. 1897.
15 5mo. 1897.
26 - lmo. 1897.
13 2mo. 1897.
West Hartlepool. Widow of Edward Withy.
John Wood, 74 15 12mo. 1896.
Newhouse, Highflatts. An Elder.
Elizabeth Wood, 75 4 2mo. 1897.
Newhouse. An Elder. Widow of John Wood.
James Williams, 64
Thomas Williams, 69
Elizabeth Willis, 61
Mary Wilson, 68
Thomas Wilson, 64
Sarah Withy, 86
'George He rbert Wood, 18 26 3mo. 1897.
Sheffield. Son of the late John and of Catherine
Joshua S. Wood, 62 1 5mo. 1897.
Sophia Wood, 67 9 5mo. 1897.
Elizabeth Woodhead, 58 5 12mo. 1895.
Walter S. Woodhouse, 17 12 12mo. 1896.
Limerick. Son of W. J. and Annie Wood-
Henry Wormall, 75 1 2mo. 1897.
Lucy Wormall, 75 22 lmo. 1897.
llfracombe. Wife of Henry Wormall.
Samuel Wright, 76 11 lOmo. 1896.
Cork. An Elder.
Infants whose names are not inserted : —
Under three months ..33
From three to six months .
Erom six to twelve months . 2 1